


Taken Over By The Feeling

by whyidontknow1



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bottom Louis, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hate to Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magazine Editor Louis, Smut, Top Harry, Underage Drinking, adult au, bakery owner harry, but not really, mentions of drug use, that never happened, very minor ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 20:48:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 53,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7403806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whyidontknow1/pseuds/whyidontknow1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After almost a year  of increasingly troubling behavior, Louis agrees to let his sister live with him. It's a last resort before more drastic measures are taken by their mom.</p>
<p>Harry Styles runs <em>Given A Chance</em>, a program for troubled and disadvantaged teens out of the bakery he owns. He offers the kids in his program what he believes they need to start on a different and better path for their lives.</p>
<p>Louis learns all too quickly that Harry's goodwill does not extend to him. Only because he happens to remind Harry of an ex he'd rather forget. It's not the smoothest of beginnings, but in the end Louis' own issues might be the real problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taken Over By The Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Really just an excuse for me to write angst and a little hate/love.
> 
> The title is taken from a song, _Love's Taken Over_ , that I heard at a wedding reception. Because of course I'd be thinking about Louis and Harry at a wedding reception.
> 
> This fic is inspired by Louis' _Given A Chance_ tattoo and a story I saw on my local news channel.
> 
> There's a hint of a potential interracial relationship in this, so don't read if that bothers you.
> 
> They're American and this is set in LA.
> 
> Louis and Harry (and Niall, Liam, and Zayn, of course) are the only ones older than their actual ages in this. For story purposes Louis' family members (siblings mainly) are their current ages.
> 
> This is divided into two parts, but it's still a oneshot, and I'm sure it will be obvious that outside of being a consumer I know absolutely nothing about fashion magazines or owning a bakery. 
> 
> All mistakes are mine.

Part One

Louis has driven in LA traffic for far too long to pay attention to the jerk who honks his horn in the lane beside him. He's used to the rare breed of people who use their horns to intimidate other drivers. Today the bullies are even less of an annoyance. Not when all of Louis can focus on is the backseat of his car where his sister is applying another unnecessary layer of eyeshadow.

At this point Fizzy has so much of the blue metallic shadow that what she's applying now doesn't even make a difference. Why she can't tell that for herself is a mystery to Louis.

“Don't you think that’s enough?” he gives his sister a brief glance in the rearview mirror.

“No, why?” Fizzy responds, her irritation showing on her face as she snaps the eyeshadow compact shut, and after making a show of dropping it back in her oversized cosmetics bag, she comes back out with a tube of lip color.

“Fizz,” Louis starts after taking a calming breath.

“What?” Fizzy asks while she liberally applies the teal blue matte lip shade she’s been wearing lately. “No one said a thing when Lottie was dyeing her hair a different color almost every other week.”

“That was different,” Louis groans silently.

“Tell me how it was different, Louis? I’m trying out new things, and so was Lots,” Fizzy snaps. “You're a fashion editor, I thought you of all people would understand."

Louis pauses his planned answer because Fizzy's right. If anybody should understand his sister's drastic makeover it should be him.

As the editor of _Modern Man_ , the fastest growing men’s fashion and lifestyle magazine in the country, he's used to the need to be unique and fashionable at the same time. Whether it stems from an individual's personal style, a short lived fad, or the latest trend; most of the time the main goal of the person making the statement is to fit in while standing out.

For Louis it doesn't stop with just the individual. Because of his job he's even had access to designs before they even made it off the mannequin forms, and thankfully some that never made it as far as a concept on the designer's sketch pad. He's literally seen it all, and he can find art in just about anything labeled fashion. So it’s not that he has an actual problem with Fizzy’s makeup or her new interest in punk grunge. Louis just has a problem when it’s not authentic. When there’s a clear separation from the person making the statement, and the person themselves. He can spot the fakes a mile away, and that’s his primary issue with his sister. She’s faking it, and the rows of braided knots on her head are a prime example. The Fizzy from a year ago would never style her hair like that.

The oversized pink sweatshirt, blue ballerina skirt, ripped black tights, and high-top _Converse_ are the exact opposite of the understated style she used to favor. And the makeup. It’s way too much and it’s just not her. The extreme change seemed to happen overnight, and there’s nothing authentic about any of it, but maybe the worst part for Louis is the aura of sadness around Fizzy. It literally breaks his heart every time he looks at her.

“You know why it’s different, Fizz, and this is your last chance,” Louis reminds his sister gently. “If you mess up again you’re going to that boarding school mom found. I’d hate that for you, but she's really serious this time.”

Over the past few months their mom has made the threat more than once, but this is the first time Louis believes her. Jay’s furious with Fizzy, and based on Louis’ research, the boarding school she’s considering could double as a military academy.

“Do you know why I wanted to come live with you instead of asking to go to New York with dad and Lottie?” Fizzy doesn’t sound annoyed anymore, but maybe the dejected tone in her voice now is worse. “Because you don’t treat me like a kid, Louis. You don’t expect me to be instantly fixed. Please don’t let how much eyeshadow I wear change that.”

“It’s not just the makeup, Fizz,” Louis is uncomfortable with how mature his sister sounds.

Yeah, Fizzy's always been aware in a way that goes beyond her age, but hat's not what bothering Louis. What he misses is the youthfulness and innocence that was always attached to the awareness.

“You’re right, and I’m sorry,” Fizzy sighs and lowers her head. “I just hate being reminded of what a screw up I am,” she mumbles.

“You’re not a screw up, you just made some bad choices,” Louis argues, but it feels like he’s defending a stranger. The outspoken class treasurer and cheerleading captain from a year ago got lost somewhere in the storm of bad behavior.

“I won’t let you or mom down,” Fizzy vows quietly. “I know stealing the handbag was a huge mistake, but I swear it was only that one time. I’m paying mom back with the money I earn from the bakery. I don’t drink or smoke anymore, and I’m passing all of my courses. My counselor says I’m doing exceptional for a new student, and I’m going to your afterschool program without putting up a fuss. I’m doing everything I need to do, so please don’t turn into mom when my big brother is who I need the most right now.”

“I’m not mom, but I am just as worried about you.”

The last thing Louis wants to do is turn into their mom, but the last thing Fizzy needs right now is an indulgent _big brother_. Sure she needs somebody she can depend on and trust. At the same time she needs guidance and stability, and although he feels inadequate in every area, Louis is trying.

He’s really trying. Sometimes it seems like he’s the only in their family who is, but why would they feel the need to look beneath the surface when they believe Fizzy’s just jealous of their baby brother and sister. They’re basing their conclusion on the fact that Fizzy started refusing to babysit the twins, and now to them it’s a cut and dried fact.

Louis isn’t so lucky. He wishes it was that simple for him, but he’s almost positive it’s something much deeper than a little fit of jealousy. It has to be when Fizzy’s practically doted on Doris and Ernie since they were born. Why would she wait until they were almost two years old to start resenting them?

That's why Louis believes refusing to babysit the twins stemmed more from Fizzy's need to antagonize Jay rather than any type of resentment towards them, but so far any time het falls on deaf ears anytime he tries to suggest that to their mom.

“Peace, love, and gummy bears,” Louis offers the olive branch he’s been using with his sisters since he was a teenager and the four of them could barely reach his knees.

“Peace, love, and gummy bears, ” Fizzy responds with a small smile.

“I’ve only heard good things about _Given A Chance_ ,” Louis is feeling a little encouraged when he adds, “And the person who runs it.”

“I know, I know. Harry Styles is practically a saint,” Fizzy responds sourly before turning her head to look out of the window. “Remind me to thank Liam again for this.”

“I will,” Louis ignores the sarcasm. He's pretty good at it now. "He believes in you, Fizz. He wouldn't have talked to this Harry Styles person otherwise."

Liam Payne is one of the very few people Louis is close enough with to confide in about Fizzy. He’s also the freelance photographer Harry Styles uses on regular basis, and it was Liam's connection that helped Fizzy get accepted into the program on such short notice. Although it wasn’t Louis' initial intention to get Fizzy into _Given A Chance_ when he confided in his friend, he didn’t even think about refusing the offer of help because of the times he has to work late.

Monitoring the time he spent in the office was never a problem until two weeks ago, and while the adjustment of having Fizzy live with him hasn’t been that hard, the program gives Louis some breathing room. It’s only three days out of the week, but that gives him three days to work late if the need arises.

“Finally,” he mutters when the navigation system gives him instructions after what seemed like an eternity of silence. He hates not being on time, and the fact that Fizzy’s starting the program a day later than the other participants only serves to make him more anxious.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck!_

Time is everything to Louis. Sometimes he only has minutes to make critical decisions. Sometimes he meets with twenty people in one day, and on those days he has to account for every single minute. He expects the people he works with to value his time, and he expects them to value the time of others. He takes it serious, and he has no problem calling people out on it. On the same token, he’s equally known for being fair about accepting legitimate excuses. Maybe if karma’s a real thing he’ll be rewarded for all those times because he was supposed to have Fizzy at the bakery by four, and it’s already twenty after.

“Damn it!” Louis sighs, he never should've gone home to change out of the clothes he wore to work. “Sorry,” he glances at Fizzy, but based on her expression, she could care less about Louis swearing. Luckily the navigator speaks again, this time saying he has to turn after another fifteen feet. “How original. A bakery on a Baker’s Street,” he mumbles, more out of frustration with himself than mockery.

He doesn’t drive a hundred yards before he spots the gigantic smiling banana sitting on top of an equally impressive building. He hasn’t visited a lot of bakeries in his lifetime, but he’s pretty certain this one’s pretty big as far as bakeries go. "Well, that's certainly a big banana," Louis says, this time he might be mocking a little.

At least Fizzy seems to think so. “I think you might want to keep the sarcasm to yourself once we get inside,” she warns, but she’s smiling. A little.

It counts, and Louis is smiling too as he pulls the silver Mercedes into the full parking lot. “Definitely stands out, doesn’t it?” When he gets out of the car he uses his hand as a shade over his eyes to help him get a better look at the banana.

The giant piece of fruit looks like it’s reclining with the top of the piece appearing to rest on one arm and further down one of the stick legs is propped on the knee of the other stick leg. The banana is wearing a chef's hat and a red apron, and the expression in the huge eyes match the huge smile on the caricature.

"Louis," Fizzy warns again.

The ginormous sculpture spans the entire front of the building, and Louis rolls his eyes when he lowers them. “I just think the name should be _One Freaking Huge Happy Banana_ ,” he kids when his sister comes to around the car to stand beside him.

“I like it, and you should put a guard over your mouth,” Fizzy responds, then shocks Louis by putting her hand in his. “Ready?”

“No,” Louis answers on a deep breath.

Too much is riding on this for him to show up late the first day. He wants his sister back. All of her, not just tiny pieces of who she used to be. Louis can even accept this new version of Fizzy if that's really who she's evolved into. He just wants her to be happy again and that’s a real possibility if this program is all Liam says it is.

“Me either,” Fizzy pulls her brother towards the glass door with the flashing open sign on it.

ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ

"Impressive," Louis whispers under his breath after he steps inside _The Happy Banana._ If the full parking lot and crowded tables on the outside hinted at how popular the bakery is, the activity on the inside spells it out completely.

Most of the tables are occupied, there’s a line at the cash register, and more than a few customers are standing in front of the self-serve shelves that line the walls. The stream of chatter flowing over the room sounds like happy customers, and if the smells assaulting Louis’ senses right now are anything to go by no wonder the bakery is as popular as it looks. He feels like he’s gained five pounds just by inhaling.

Despite the weight gain, he’d still like to try one of everything.

“Welcome to _The Happy Banana_. Can I help you?”

The deep voice startles Louis. It scrapes over every single nerve ending in his body, making him feel like he just touched an electrical socket with a wet finger, and nothing short of a freight train crashing through the front of the bakery can prevent him from turning around to find out who the owner of the voice is.

_Shit. Shit_. Apparently to a really good looking man.

Louis’ breath stops somewhere between his esophagus and his throat when he meets a pair of startling green eyes.

Thanks to Liam and his on point description skills, Louis is almost sure the owner of the sexy voice and killer face is Harry Styles. Louis also has enough experience to recognize the brief flare of attraction in the green eyes, but he's confused when it’s masked with something resembling irritation.

“We’re here to see Harry Styles,” Louis tries to play it cool.

There was a curious slyness to Liam’s tone when he told Louis on more than one occasion that the _Given A Chance_ director was gay. Now Louis understands why, but then he wasn’t interested enough to give it any thought.

Well, he’s definitely interested now and he doesn’t attempt to hide it, but in an unforeseen turn of events the man wearing the red bakery smock and fashion backwards hairnet that in no way distract from his looks, ignores Louis.

He addresses Fizzy instead. “I’m Harry Styles, and you must be Félicité Tomlinson?”

“Hi,” Fizzy responds shyly.

Louis feels betrayed. How can his sister sound just as captivated as he feels? What happened to the cross teenager who’s been living with him for the past two weeks? The girl who can’t even be bothered to sit in the front seat of his car with him.

“Derrick, can you come here for a sec?” Harry calls out.

With the small distraction Louis fixes his hair to disguise his interest in the baker’s pretty pink lips, but when he looks up he doesn’t expect to meet Harry’s eyes or the confused look in them.

“This is Derrick Watson, " Harry hastily turns his head to look at the nice looking African American boy who joins them. "He's new to the program, but he’s been coming here with his mom for years so he knows his way around,” Harry makes the introduction, smiling fondly at the boy who's holding out his hand to Louis.

“I’m Louis and this is my sister, Félicité,” Louis takes the hand, impressed by the teen’s firm grip. Up this close he reminds Louis a lot of that Colby or Corbin something kid from the _High School Musical_ movies. Movies that Louis is sure he would have no knowledge of if it weren’t for his sisters forcing him to watch them. Not because he enjoyed them.

“Fizzy,” Fizzy corrects Louis.

“Nice to meet you both,” Derrick addresses Louis and Fizzy, smiling warmly.

“Derrick will show you around while I have a small chat with your brother. He'll introduce you to everyone,” Harry takes over the conversation again. “After that he’ll take you to get your apron and show where we get this snazzy headgear from. But don’t worry, you only have to wear it when you’re working in the kitchens. We close at six, but sometime before that I’ll sit down with you to go into more detail about the program then. Okay?

“Okay,” Fizzy responds timidly with a little bit of the captivation still mixed in.

“Hey, there’s no need to be nervous. We’re all friends here and I’m sure you’ll catch on easily,” Harry sounds genuinely concerned and it moves him up a notch in Louis’ opinion meter.

Actually it moves him up two notches because as far as Louis can tell the bakery owner hasn’t so much as blinked at Fizzy’s appearance. Unsurprisingly, a few people have done doubletakes. Even Derrick's eyes widened a little when Harry made the introductions.

“Thanks,” Fizzy answers just as quietly as before.

Follow me,” Derrick waits for Fizzy to join him and Louis watches anxiously as they walk off.

“You can come with me,” Harry says tightly before moving in the opposite direction of the two teenagers.

“Why _The Happy Banana_?” Louis asks, trying to ignore the tension.

“You’d have to ask the previous owner that,” Harry answers tonelessly. “As for me, I liked the name and I like bananas so I didn’t see the need to change it,” he adds after leading Louis into what appears to be an office somewhere in the back of the building. 

When Louis steps inside his eyes go straight to a board of pictures on the other side of the room. There are at least a hundred Polaroid snapshots of different teenagers, all of them holding identical trophies.

Harry’s in every picture, smiling proudly.

“Past participants?” Louis asks, taking the seat in front of the desk.

“Yes,” Harry takes the chair on the opposite side. “Liam took those. We also have several books that showcase the work we do here. He put those together too. You’re welcome to look through them if you’d like.”

“I would, thanks,” Louis replies, looking forward to seeing more of Liam's work. He's done a lot of work for _Modern Man_ and Louis already knows firsthand the caliber of his photography skills. The books Liam did for the bakery are probably amazing.

Harry takes off the hairnet to reveal a neat twist on top of his head, and Louis is instantly fascinated by the curly tendrils of hair that are too short to make it into the bun.

Harry’s watching Louis too and his eyes harden before he opens a file on his desk. “After today all tardies have to be excused by me,” he speaks without looking up.

“Sorry about that,” Louis goes from feeling relieved to feeling like an eight year old who just got on his teacher’s bad side.

“I don’t like for _Given A Chance_ to be taken lightly. We only have room for twelve participants and it’s a great opportunity for those selected. Because of that we have rules and one of those rules is automatic dismissal after being late three times. The same for absences."

"I understand," Louis really doesn't.

"We depend on family members to help us with this. If the parent, or in your case guardian, is irresponsible, we’re fighting a losing battle,” Harry stares pointedly at Louis’ clothes. “Nice first impression.”

_Okay, and what the fuck!_

Louis knows he’s not dressed to impress, but he definitely doesn’t deserve to be labeled irresponsible for the joggers, tee shirt, and Balenciaga loafers. Almost always he has to be on for his job. He has to look like he just stepped off the runway every day of the week. Some nights and weekends too. So when he has the opportunity to dress comfortably he takes it, and he’s not about to let some uptight baker make him feel bad for it.

Besides his laid back look probably costs more than the bakery makes in a day.

The only thing keeping Louis from making the point out loud is the threat of Fizzy getting kicked out of the program before she starts. Why does how he looks matter anyway? They’re in a bakery for fucks sake, not a five star restaurant.

“I won’t have her late again,” Louis guarantees with a brittle smile.

“I guess we’ll see,” Harry responds none too confidently. “So far I only have Liam’s word to vouch for you as a person.”

Up until this point Liam’s been relaying all the information to Louis. He’s been handling all of the back and forth. In retrospect that probably wasn’t such a good idea and Louis silently admits that as Fizzy’s guardian maybe he should’ve reached out to Harry before today.

“He only had good things to say about the program,” Louis responds cordially, but silently he thinks Liam left out the part about Harry Styles being an uptight asshole.

“So, tell me about Félicité,” Harry urges in the same stilted tone after he goes back to looking down at the folder.

“She’s sixteen and your average teenager, I guess. Moody one minute, happy the next. Although lately the moodiness has taken over,” Louis readily offers the information, hoping maybe they’re finally headed in a positive direction.

Harry holds his hand up to stop Louis from continuing. “No, I mean what’s her story? Every kid here has story, and I need to know your sister’s.”

“Oh,” Louis stalls to quietly debate just how much he should tell this person that he hardly knows, and who so far seems to be an arrogant jerk.

“You don’t have anything to worry about. What you tell me won’t go anywhere outside this room, but I need to know why Fizzy’s here. Unfortunately this program’s not a fit for everybody. Sometimes the kids need more help than I can offer. The only way I can determine that is if I know everything you know. Even if it's just a guess on your part,” Harry maintains the aloofness, but at least he’s making sense now.

Still, Louis would trust the baker a lot more if he wasn’t so rigid and serious. “Fizz has been acting out for months. It started out with her staying out late and not letting our mom know where she was. She’d come home drunk and smelling like cigarettes. Or maybe weed. I don’t know because I wasn’t there, but my mom said she thought it might be. A few months ago Fizz ran away to our grandparent’s. She had a friend drive her and we didn’t hear from her for an entire day. Just last month she tried to steal a purse from a very famous department store, but she didn’t get out of the exit before the security stopped her. Thankfully the manager knows my sister Charlotte and she called her instead of the police. My mom paid for the purse, but it was the final straw. She decided right then to send Fizz to boarding school.”

“This isn’t boarding school,” Harry points out, obviously seeking more information.

“Somehow Fizz convinced our mom to let her stay with me until the summer if I agreed, but this is definitely her last chance,” Louis responds.

“What do you think caused the change in her behavior?” Harry frowns and writes as he talks.

"Our mother gave birth to twins almost two years ago. Almost everyone in my family believes Fizzy’s acting out because of that. You know to get attention,” Louis purposefully leaves himself out the equation.

“I pretty much know everything you just told me. It’s almost verbatim to what Liam said, but I can tell you believe there’s more to it,” Harry stops writing to look across the desk expectantly.

Louis is still hesitant, but he needs to lighten the burden he’s been carrying all by himself. “I could be wrong, but it just doesn’t add up. Fizzy loves Ernie and Doris, and why now, when they're almost two years old? Also, we have eleven year old twin sisters that she’s never been jealous of. I just don’t think I’m wrong. Something else is going on with my sister, but getting her to open up is another story entirely. She shuts down even if I try to bring the subject up.”

“Thank you, Louis. I think that's what I've waiting to hear,” Harry says with finality. “Okay, so usually the two high schools in the area recommend students for us to take, but on rare occasions social services, the parents, or someone who knows about the program will reach out to us, and we do our best to accommodate them. The program lasts twenty weeks and I offer two a year. We also do eight weeks in the summer, but that’s only for any of the kids who might need the extra income. The bakery is closed on Sundays, and during the year I don’t interfere with school breaks or holidays. Although if we're open any of the kids are allowed to come in on those days if they want to. I’m not a counselor or psychologist. I just want the kids in my program to know that someone is always in their corner. At the same time I want to steer them down a different path so that when they complete the program they'll leave with some business knowledge. They’ll also understand teamwork, what good work ethics are, and what it means to give back. However, my greatest hope is for every kid in my program to come away with a greater sense of self-worth and the confidence to know that they can achieve anything they set their minds to. So far we have a pretty good record.”

“Where were you when I was fifteen?” Louis is honestly moved. He went through a rough period in his teens. Much of it he wrongly blamed his mom for. He was almost twenty-one and suffering from a devastating breakup before he realized a lot of what he thought about Jay were just things he made up in his head.

Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ question, but something flashes in his eyes that he quickly masks and when he starts speaking he’s back to being standoffish.

“We run the program on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays from four til eight. The first two hours are devoted to work, the last two to just talk. Whatever the kids want to talk about. Nothing’s off limits, but unless I feel it’s necessary I don’t share anything they tell me. It’s the only way I can build trust. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I guess if Fizz tells you the real reason behind her behavior change... of course, I mean if I'm right and there's something more than we already know, then you won’t share it,” Louis answers.

“Not unless I think you need to know. Are you okay with that?”

“I am, yes,” Louis is surprised to realize he’s telling the truth. The more he listens to Harry Styles the more at peace he becomes about Fizzy being here.

“I also never share with anyone why any of the kids are here. Outside of their own families it’s no one else’s business. I also found out early on it’s best to keep family out of talk time. Kids seem to close up. Sometimes it’s even a step backwards. I hope that’s okay too,” Harry continues, watching Louis closely.

"Of course,” Louis honestly doesn’t want to hinder Fizzy in any way and it’s not like Harry’s really giving him a choice in the matter.

“The only Friday we require is the night before _Giving Back Saturday_. On both those days we ask parents and guardians to help out. We also ask that you spend one evening in the bakery, usually within the first couple of weeks just to see what we do firsthand. Other than that you’ll only be asked to attend the small completion ceremony at the end of the twenty weeks.

“I can do that,” Louis mentally tries to picture his schedule. If he’s right he won’t be able to do the observation thing until next Wednesday, but that’s well within the two week time allotment.

“Good to hear,” Harry finally stops writing and he closes the folder. “One other thing. We ask parents or someone they designate to drop their children off and pick them up. It’s just a safety measure that prevents worry on both sides.”

“That was my plan all along,” Louis says lightly, but to be honest he’s seriously impressed. Los Angeles has a lot of places for a teen to wander off to and although he grew up in a small town a couple of hours away, Louis remembers what it was like when he was supposed to be in one place, but actually in another. He regrets it now, but he was the cause of many anxious nights for Jay.

Harry might not smile, but he doesn’t go back to Mr. Rigid either. “You don’t have to let us know the evening you can spend here. Just show up and we’ll go from there.”

“Thanks,” Louis can’t commit anyway until he looks over his schedule. “So we’re done?” he asks, ready to leave. He has a grocery list a mile long to take care of and hopefully he can make it to the cleaners before they close. If he manages his time correctly he can have the groceries put up before he picks Fizzy up.

“You can leave whenever you like,” Harry tells him with unhidden annoyance in his eyes. “Just sign these,” he pushes some papers across the desk at Louis. “The top copy is just yours and Fizzy’s contact information that I’ll need to complete her file. The bottom sheet is for you. It has all my contact information on it. Of course you’ll only use my cell if you need to get in touch with me and the bakery’s closed.”

“Of course,” Louis picks up the ink pen Harry sits on top of the papers. He fills out the requested information and he’s about to ask if there’s anything else when Harry pre-empts the attempt.

“Be back by eight. You can handle that too, can’t you?” he almost sounds derisive.

Louis feels the need to defend himself again, but he refuses to give in to the feeling. Not when he hasn’t done anything wrong. Instead he takes his sheet of paper and marches out of the office without slamming the door like he wants to. He can’t help thinking that maybe Liam was wrong. Maybe having Fizzy in the program isn’t such a good idea after all.

Definitely Liam was wrong about Harry Styles being the kindest human being to ever walk the planet.

ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ

“You know if you’re unhappy all you have to do is tell me and you’re done here. I’m sure we can find another afterschool program for you to join. Maybe a better one,” Louis laments to Fizzy as they make their way towards the bakery.

Louis has spent the better part of sixteen nights and fifteen days being offended at Harry Styles, and he can’t wait to get this over with. Although there is a teeny tiny part of him that's looking forward to spending the next four hours in the bakery and that has everything to do with the obnoxious oaf of a baker.

“What is your problem?” Fizzy stops walking a few feet away from the door. “I don’t want to quit, and before you ask again. No, Harry hasn’t been mean to me,” she adds, frowning up at her older brother. “He’s really nice, and I like it here.”

“You’re forgetting the night you came home looking like you had a fight with a bag of flour,” Louis reminds his sister dryly.

The incident with the bowl of flour happened Fizzy’s second day of participating in the program. Since then, except for a few smudges here and there, she’s left the bakery just as clean as she entered it. Even more impressive is the change in her demeanor. She’s not the same Fizzy she was almost a year ago, but she’s definitely not the subdued girl who started Harry’s program almost three weeks ago.

“I told you that was an embarrassing mistake," Fizzy sighs. "I wish you'd stop reminding me about it.”

“Sorry,” Louis apologizes, trying not to smile at the mental image of his sister pouring the entire bowl of flour into a mixer all at once.

“Sure you are,” Fizzy responds sarcastically, but she’s smiling. A real smile, not one of the fake one's that Louis had all but gotten used to.

“Fizzy, wait up,” a familiar voice yells from behind them, and Louis turns around to spot Derrick walking with a really pretty woman.

“Hey, Derrick,” Fizzy smiles when the pair catches up to them.

“Hey,” Derrick returns the smile before looking at Louis. "Hi, Mr. Tomlinson."

“Call me, Louis," Louis instructs Derrick again. Hi, I’m Fizzy’s older brother,” he offers his hand to the fourth member in their group.

“I’m Derrick’s mom, and you can call me, Mrs. Watson,” the woman says snobbishly, and Louis is immediately thrown off. He wonders if he should withdraw the hand she’s ignoring.

“Mom, please,” Derrick moans, frowning. “She’s just kidding, Mr. Tomlinson. I mean, Louis.”

“Sorry, I just love teasing my son. I'm Caroline, and it’s really nice to meet you,” Caroline grasps Louis’ hand, and when she smiles he can see how much Derrick resembles his mom.

“Hi, Fizzy. Derrick almost pulled my arm off just to catch up to you,” Caroline reveals the information with obvious delight.

“Mom!”

“Oh really,” Fizzy nudges the boy standing next to her, but a blush to match his is staining her cheeks.

“Maybe we should take this inside. I have it on good authority the owner frowns on tardiness,” Louis speaks up, not sure if he should be alarmed. Fizzy definitely doesn’t need a crush to complicate her life right now.

“Ooh, somebody’s felt the wrath of Harry Styles,” Caroline teases as they trail behind Fizzy and Derrick. “How’d you make out?”

“Barely with my skin intact,” Louis grumbles, and for obvious reasons he doesn’t join in when Caroline bursts out laughing.

“You’re kidding, right? Harry’s the biggest softie you’ll ever meet.”

That does it for Louis. Now he knows for sure he met a different Harry Styles. First, Liam singing the baker’s praises, then Fizzy defending him, and now Derrick’s mom calling him a softie.

“I think we’re talking about two different people,” Louis mutters grimly as they step through the door.

Caroline gives him a puzzled look, but he just shrugs. He can’t force her to believe him.

The bakery’s just as busy as it was over two weeks ago, and if Louis were ever questioned he'd vehemently deny doing a quick survey of the room to search out the person who might or might not be Harry Styles.

Louis only looks around because he appreciates a success story.

“C.W., you back again?” a blond man wearing a smock similar to the one Harry had on is making his way over to them.

“I just can’t stay away,” Caroline smiles fondly at the man.

“I’m Niall, and you must be Fizz’s older brother,” the blond person offers his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Louis,” he adds with what could only be considered a smirk.

“Hopefully all good things,” Louis let’s go of the firm grip to look at his sister questioningly. He wants to know what she said about him to cause that look, but he gets nothing when she lifts her shoulders and gives Louis a confused look.

“Define good,” Niall’s smile gets wider before he switches the subject. “You’re not volunteering in those clothes, are you?”

“Wait, you’re volunteering today? In that?” Caroline asks in wide eyed disbelief, but Louis didn't miss the small wink she directed at Niall.

“Something wrong with it?” Louis asks, aware that he’s standing out among the mostly jean and tee shirt wearing crowd. Even Fizzy’s traded her usual grunge for a pair of untorn leggings and a plain white t-shirt. Her hair and makeup are unchanged, but there’s a lightness about her that wasn’t there when she started the program.

“I tried to get him to change into something less fancy, but he wouldn’t listen, “Fizzy adds her unasked for two cents.

Louis would seriously like to know what the big deal is. If he happens to get a little flour on his shirt it’s nothing his drycleaner can’t handle.

“I didn’t want you to be late,” he goes on the defensive. After the scolding he got from Harry, he’s been diligent to make sure Fizzy’s on time, but the insult to the way he was dressed stuck. Louis couldn't let it go and showing the yet to be seen bakery owner that he’s not a slouch is the major reason behind the outfit choice. Shove it up Harry Styles’ disapproving nose might be a better way to describe it.

Louis thinks the periwinkle silk shirt and tailored grey trousers are the way to do it. Overly styled hair and grey suede Prada drivers complete the look. Louis doesn’t need to be told how good and expensive he looks. He knew it even before he put the clothes on this morning. Now if only Harry would show his face to see it for himself.

“Mighty noble of you. Not wanting to be late, I mean,” Niall looks Louis over one last time before shaking his head sympathetically. “Sorry to cut this short, but I have to give the kiddies their assignments for today. Looks like you two are the only parents we have, so C.W., you want to grab an apron and work the counter? Louis, you can help yourself to a cup of tea or coffee, then just grab a seat. Harry will come show you around when he finishes up with the delivery order he’s working on.”

“Thanks,” Louis forgets being defensive in favor of trying to get his heart rate to slow down. Any minute now Harry’s going to regret ever looking down his nose at him, and Louis can’t wait revel in victory.

“Here you go,” Caroline sits a steaming cup of tea in front of him a few minutes later. “Fizzy said you take it plain?”

“The only way to go, thanks,” Louis wraps his hand around the insulated cup. He hasn’t met a cup of tea better than what he makes, but he blows and takes a cynical sip anyway. Still doesn’t beat his, but it’s surprisingly good. He’d actually pay for it, and that’s a first. “Nice,” he says after a second sip. “Really nice.”

“Everything they offer here is really nice. I’ve had to ban myself from all of it. A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips,” Caroline leans the body part in question against the small table, and Louis takes it as an opening.

“Exactly how many times have you done this? I thought we were only required to volunteer once.”

“Counting today, I've volunteered four times, but that’s because...”

“That’s because she takes great interest in what her son is up to.”

The person Louis _has not_ been looking for wraps an arm around Caroline’s shoulder and apparently takes a dig at him at the same time. “She’s practically an honorary employee now,” Harry lays it on thick.

Louis takes a deep breath and an even deeper mental sigh. He’s exhausted and very much not in the mood for this bullshit again. Louis is well aware of how much time has passed since their first meeting, but he had to scrap one fashion spread due to a stolen design claim, then produce an entire spread from beginning to end in one week. This is the first opportunity he’s had to volunteer. He would’ve been here sooner if he could have, and he’d tell the asshole of a baker that if he were interested in knowing why instead of trying to shame him.

“Only because it’s easier than driving the hour each way it takes for me to get here,” Caroline nudges Harry’s side, giving him a disapproving look. “Sometimes I have clients to keep me busy, but when I don’t I volunteer here.”

“The point being you’re here, and it says a lot,” Harry drawls, looking at Caroline, but it’s clear who he’s talking to.

“Okay, and on that strangeness I think I’ll head back over to the counter,” Caroline frowns at Harry before stepping away from the table. “See you in a little,” she says to Louis.

“Showoff,” Louis teases, refusing to let Harry bait him, although he is contemplating bakercide. Really would the world be any worse off minus one obnoxious baker?

“Slacker,” Caroline sasses back, briefly pulling Louis from his homicidal thoughts.

“I have a lot to do so we have to make this quick,” the real Harry says once their buffer is out of earshot. His face is a blank mask, and he sounds like he’s about to face something unpleasant.

Louis is undeterred. He has something to prove. “At your service,” he takes his time standing up. He moves comically slow because he wants to give Harry enough time to take all of him in. Every single impeccable inch of him.

“You sure you want to do this in those clothes?” Harry finally asks, and it actually looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Louis responds impatiently, swallowing his disappointment. This is fucking not how this was supposed to go.

“Just checking,” Harry relents smugly. “Looks like the outfit might’ve set you back a dollar or two,” he adds injury to the growing list of insults he’s already directed at Louis.

“It did,” Louis says sarcastically.

Actually the outfit didn’t set him back one copper penny. Having designer clothes thrown at him is one of the many perks of his job. If Louis had paid for it, the entire look, including the Michael Kors belt, would’ve have cost more than a _dollar or two_. The entire ensemble would’ve cost close to a thousand dollars, but information like that would be wasted on the smug jerk in front of him.

“I’m really sorry to hear that,” Harry doesn’t sound sorry at all as he walks away.

_“Fizz likes it here. Fizz likes it here,”_ Louis repeats over and over in his head as he rushes to keep up with Harry’s long strides.

“This is our storage room,” Harry leads them into the large space, and the first thing Louis sees is a shelf the almost the same length as the wall with different sized mixing bowls and cake pans, large spoons, and other kitchen ware he doesn’t recognize.

“As you can see we store all of the bakeware and other gadgets in here. This is also where we store our dry goods, including the teas and coffees we offer in shop,” Harry walks around a corner where huge sacks of flour and sugar are stacked. The shelves against the wall are neatly stocked with oil, non-stick sprays, food colors, flavorings, and large containers of baking soda and powder.

Louis is still reading the different labels when Harry goes behind a set of double doors. He comes back out with a red apron with the bakery’s logo on it. There’s something else in his hand, but Louis can’t make out what it is. He’s still trying to figure it out when he notices the two girls and one boy who followed Harry out of the double doors.

“We give three of our kids the task of keeping things neat and in order in here. Today it’s Fizzy, Cassidy, and Samuel,” Harry’s gestures to the teens beside him.

Fizzy salutes Louis, the other girl in the group gives him a friendly smile, but the boy doesn't look too happy with the interruption.

“Hi,” Louis waves back, ignoring the slight, and thinking Samuel would be handsome if it weren’t for the scowl on his face.

“Aren’t you a little late for the volunteering thing?” Samuel’s apparently not satisfied with being ignored. “Like almost two weeks late,” he tacks on, exaggerating the truth. Louis is only a week late. Actually not even an entire week.

“I had an emergency to come up at work. It couldn’t be avoided,” Louis answers the boy, but for some reason he feels like he’s really explaining for Harry’s benefit.

“So what you’re saying is your work is more important than your sister? ” Samuel digs the knife in with a mean smirk. "I get it."

“No, you don’t apparently,” Louis responds, done being nice to the smartass in obvious need of an attitude adjustment.

“Why don’t you just shut up sometimes, Samuel. Geez!” Cassidy breaks in before Louis can say more.

“What?” Samuel asks holds his palms out, sounding fake innocent.

“Alright, that’s enough guys, you can go back to work now,” Harry speaks up.

Louis appreciates the fact that Harry finally said something to deescalate the situation, but he also thinks the program director should’ve intervened immediately. Not when Louis was a breath away from saying something he might’ve ended up regretting.

Still it’s probably a good thing for all of them when Samuel quickly obeys Harry’s order. The teenager quickly disappears behind the same door he came out of. Cassidy follows right behind him, but Fizzy runs over to Louis to wrap him up in a tight hug.

“Ignore him, he’s not that bad when you get used to him,” she whispers before running off.

The petty side of Louis wonders if Fizzy meant Harry or Samuel. He’s still deciding who he’d put his money on when Harry clears his throat too loudly for it to be anything other than intentional.

“I think we’re done in here,” he says when Louis looks at him. Then he’s back to moving and talking fast, no mention of Samuel’s behavior. “We rotate the schedule so all of the kids get a chance to experience every part of the business, and most of the time the three in here help out with the deliveries if we have any scheduled this late in the day. The others work in one of the kitchens or out front.”

“Kitchens?” Louis isn't pleased about it, but he can move on from the Samuel incident too. “As in more than one?”

“Besides the baking for the actual bakery, we also do wedding and special occasion cakes. Nothing on the scale of what you see on television, but we are carving out our own place in the business. Actually, it’s where most of our profits come in, and it was too confusing trying to do all of the baking in one kitchen so I had another one added a little over two years ago,” Harry waits for Louis to walk out of the room.

“We have four industrial size refrigerators. Three to keep things like eggs, butter, cream, and milk, but one is reserved for fondant because it has to be kept at a certain temperature. All of our frostings are made here, but none of us have perfected the art of fondant so we have to order it,” Harry navigates a set of corridors, and they end up in a room some distance away from the others.

“What’s this?” Louis forgets to ask what fondant is as he surveys the sunlit room. It’s huge and empty. Double the size of the lobby, and even in the dim lighting he can make out the pristine hardwood floors.

“The bakery hosts small receptions and banquets. We also hold the completion ceremony in here, and that’s about it. I’ll show you the kitchens now,” Harry says blandly, and leads them out of the room they spent all of two minutes in.

“This is incredible. There’s no way you did all of this on your own,” Louis is in awe as he follows Harry back down the corridors, and he’s so intent on keeping up he’s unprepared when Harry turns suddenly. It happens so fast Louis bumps into Harry's chest before he stumbles backwards.

“My mom and stepdad purchased the bakery for me as gift after I graduated from culinary school, but why do you ask? Do I look too inept to start a business without help?” Harry asks harshly, his green eyes on fire. “You can look past your designer clothes to acknowledge the success, but you can’t see me as anything other than an incompetent baker, right?”

Louis is so stunned by the unprovoked attack he backs further away and he crosses his arms over his chest defensively. In less than ten minutes he’s been unjustly criticized twice and it's fucking unfair.

“Maybe I could have worded that better, but you’re so wrong it’s laughable. And while we’re at it, you’re a first class hypocrite because you’re the one who can’t look past whatever it is you have against me to even be civil. What you’ve done here is amazing and inspiring. Whether you did it alone or with help, and I don’t see an incompetent baker at all. How can I when all you’ve shown me is a self-righteous and judgmental asshole? Now the sooner you show me _the kitchens,_ the sooner me and my designer clothes can be out of your way permanently. Or would you like for me to collect Fizzy and leave now?”

For about half of a second Harry looks taken aback. Then something so intense enters his eyes that Louis finds his back pressed up against the wall without knowing how he got there, and now that he is, he’s incapable of moving.

When Harry starts walking towards him, Louis' eyes go wide because it really looks like Harry is about to kiss him. He'd bet his life on it, but before he can decide if the kiss would be welcome or not, Harry visibly shakes himself, and when he meets Louis eyes again the animosity is back on his face.

“Fizzy’s a great girl, but even if she wasn’t it would take more than a weak insult from her brother to make dismiss her from the program,” Harry takes a couple of steps back, leaving Louis feeling disappointed, and like a massive idiot for thinking this person was worth the time he wasted trying to impress him.

The fact that he let Harry consume his thoughts day and night since the last time he saw him is a hard pill to swallow. Louis feels so stupid he wants to cry, but that doesn't mean he’s about to back down. He holds his own as he glares back at Harry.

“Follow me,” Harry orders, turning away first, and once again Louis is left to shadow him. Only this time regret is making mincemeat of his insides.

Luckily this time Louis only has to endure a few minutes of the stony silence, and the next room they enter is a kitchen full of stainless steel appliances. Even the work tables appear to be stainless steel.

“This is the kitchen where we do all the baking for the bakery,” Harry says stiffly. “Hey, Lou,” he addresses a woman brushing butter on a huge steel tray of something doughy.

Lou is dressed in a purple chef’s smock that matches the purple hair under her hairnet. The red headed man beside her is dressed in a black smock with sleeves short enough to reveal tattoo covered arms.

“Hazza,” Lou says before moving to another tray identical to the other one.

“Lou’s our head baker for the bakery. The person working beside her is her husband and assistant, Tom,” Harry makes the introductions. “This is Fizzy Tomlinson's brother and guardian, Louis.”

“What’s up, man?” Tom nods at him before sprinkling something over the dough. Then he takes the tray to an appliance with double glass doors, and about dozen racks on each side. Louis has no idea what it is, but if he had to guess he’d say it’s some kind of warming appliance.

“Hey, Louis,” Lou looks up from her task to smile warmly at him. She does a quick double take when she sees his clothes, but her smile stays the same and she doesn’t say anything. Louis likes her immediately.

“We’re done with the baking in here for the day, but Lou and Tom are working on our honey butter croissants for in the morning. We won’t bake them tonight, but they have to be prepared in advance or they won’t have time to rise. Everything else is prepared and baked the day of,” Harry continues, and Louis can hear the pride in his voice. “Let me introduce to the program members assigned in here today. That’s Kellan breaking the mixer down. Janice and Cadence are cleaning the other baking station. Besides the bakers we also have two fulltime employees for each kitchen, but their shift starts at three in the morning, and normally ends around twelve.”

“Hi,” Louis waves at the three teenagers who all return the gesture, but continue with their tasks.

“You have to put these on while you’re in the kitchen. Health Department regulations,” Harry holds out the apron he retrieved from the closet in the storage room, and what Louis now sees is one of the dreaded hairnets.

Before the small confrontation in the corridor he probably would have refused to wear it, but not now. Louis won’t give Harry the satisfaction. Or another reason to dislike him as much as he already does.

“We can move to the other kitchen as soon as you’re done," Harry talks while Louis puts the hairnet over his perfectly styled hair. He ignores it when Louis struggles to tie the apron once he slips it over his head.

“Let me help you with this,” Lou steps up behind Louis. “What’s wrong with him?” she whispers n his ear before she turns him loose.

“You referring to the cactus stuck up his ass?” Louis mutters, still mystified and upset by the animosity.

“Oddly enough that explanation works for me,” Lou chuckles then gives Louis a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

“Happy it's working for someone at least. Me, I just want to be the one handling the cactus,” Louis whispers hotly, and he feels somewhat gratified as he trails Harry out of the kitchen with the sound of the head baker’s laughter following him.

They only walk a few feet before reaching their destination and Harry steps aside to let Louis enter before him. Louis immediately notes that although the room is smaller it’s almost indistinguishable from the other kitchen.

“Louissss,” Niall draws out the last syllable of Louis’ name at an irritatingly slow pace. He's wrapping what looks like a red satin ribbon around the base of a square cake that's covered in something white that looks too perfect to be frosting.

“You’ve already met Niall,” Harry speaks from behind Louis. “He’s putting the finishing touches on the wedding cake we have going out in the morning. When he’s done it’ll be five tiers, and tomorrow the only thing we’ll have to do is add the geranium bouquet to the top layer before it goes to the delivery truck.”

“They’re beautiful. Are they real?” Louis points to the beautiful display of ruby red flowers sitting next to the cake, assuming they’re the geranium bouquet Harry’s referring to.

“Nope, made out of sugar,” Niall answers him without looking up from his work.

“Oh,” Louis makes a mental note to tell Niall again how amazing the cake and flowers look when Harry's not breathing down his neck.

“Where are Patrick and Eduardo?” Harry asks. “They’re the two teens assigned to work in here today. The rest, including Derrick, are working out front,” he explains to Louis. “That would be Adam, Shelia, Olivia, and Myesha, but I’ll have to introduce you later.

“I sent Paddy and Eduardo to get the boxes we need for the cake, and Beli needs more red food coloring,” Niall responds, but his focus is on the cake. “You just missed them.”

“Okay,” Harry watches Niall work before turning back to Louis. “In addition to the cake, the bride’s mom requested three hundred cupcakes as take home gifts for the guests. Belinda is in charge of those. Half will be white, and the other half red,” Harry points to a person on the other side of the room standing in front of a table full of cupcakes. “Beli’s also the head baker in this kitchen.”

Louis does a mental double take when the person in the white smock glances up because Beli is kind of shocking to look at. Ambiguous is the only word Louis can think of to describe her looks. It’s obvious she’s a woman, but there’s an ambiguity to her plain looks that might have someone guessing if they didn’t already know her gender.

To Louis’ trained eyes she looks to be in her late twenties or early thirties, and from what he can see through the hairnet her hair is midnight black and pulled back into a sleek ponytail. Put together all of Beli’s non-descript features are almost striking. Ethereal is the word Louis comes up with, and he’s sure if she were a few years younger she could’ve been an in demand model. He can't count to the number of fashion shows he's been to where the makeup artists worked extra hard to make the models look ambiguous. Beli would've been a makeup artist's dream.

“Hi, I’m Louis,” Louis introduces himself when it appears Harry won’t.

“I know who you are, now come over here,” Beli motions him over.

“I have to get back out front, so I’ll leave you in Beli’s hands,” Harry almost sounds relieved, but it doesn’t bother Louis. Actually, his mood lightens instantly because a room without Harry Style’s in it can only be described as a good thing.

“Hey, I knew him first. Why not me? ” Niall asks Harry before he leaves the kitchen.

“Because you’d talk his ears off, and the cake would still be unfinished in the morning,” Harry responds before walking out.

“I can still talk his ears off. Even if he’s working with Beli!” Niall yells to the closed door.

“Don’t you try it, Niall Horan,” Beli warns Niall with a fond glare before she looks at Louis. “Fizzy’s brother, come taste this for me,” she holds her hand out.

“Uhm, yeah. Sure,” Louis takes the only cupcake with frosting on it, but he stops before taking a bite because he doesn’t want the order to be short.

“Don’t worry, I made extra,” Beli correctly guesses the reason for the hesitation. “Taste,” she orders again.

Louis complies, and even before he starts chewing, his mouth is filled with what he imagines food in heaven tastes like. The cupcake is unarguably one of the best thing he’s ever tasted. It’s so good Louis is disappointed when it disappears after three more eager bites.

“Simple, but good, right?” the chef smiles her approval at Louis’ enthusiasm.

“That was amazing,” Louis licks his lips, wondering if Niall and Beli would laugh if he licked his fingers. “What flavor are they?”

“Coconut and vanilla. Same as the cake, but we only use real vanilla from Madagascar. It makes a big difference,” Beli talks as she frosts another one of the cupcakes, taking only a few seconds to make a pretty swirl design. 

"Just wanted to say that I think both of you should come with me to set the cake and cupcakes up the morning," Harry stops talking when Louis spins to look at him.

Louis didn't even hear Harry come back into the kitchen, but he's pretty sure Harry's not talking to him. Still he'd love to know why Harry's looking at him, and not Beli or Niall.

"You have some frosting," Harry points to the space beside his mouth.

Louis rubs vigorously at the same spot on his face out instinct more than anything else. He drops his hand in the same manner when Harry sighs impatiently and starts walking towards him.

"Let me," Harry tells Louis rigidly, still not meeting his eyes while he uses his thumb to rub the opposite side of Louis' mouth. The side that Louis didn't rub because it wasn't the side Harry indicated.

Louis couldn't be more still if he were nailed to the floor. He can only watch while Harry rids him of the frosting. Obviously he can breathe though because he gasps when Harry's thumb drags across the corner of his mouth, but whatever the spell is, it's broken when Beli coughs. Harry jerks his hand away from Louis' face and he moves back like he got a little too close to fire.

"Glad the kiddies weren't in here to see that," Niall teases, fanning himself. "It was hot!" he tacks on before bursting into a fit of giggles.

Harry glares at Niall before storming out of the kitchen, leaving Louis confused and mortified.

“Eat another cupcake, little one,” Beli makes the gentle offer after the door swings shut and Niall stops laughing.

“I couldn’t,” Louis turns around slowly, more embarrassed by the way Harry left than their little display.

“You can,” Beli insists knowingly.

Honestly, Louis is happy to give in. He’ll gladly endure the extra twenty minutes in the gym the second cupcake is going to cost him. Plus he needs to push Harry Styles and his mixed signals as far away from his brain as he can.

“There are no words to describe how good this is,” Louis says around a mouth full of his second cupcake.

“Thanks, Louis,” Beli responds, sounding satisfied before she turns her attention back to the table full of cupcakes. “Now watch.”

Louis isn’t a watcher by nature. He’s a doer, and he feels awkward just standing around. It gives him too much time to think about someone he wishes he had never met.

“Can I help?” he says the first thing that comes to his mind.

ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ

Louis figured frosting cupcakes wasn’t his thing when Beli had to scrape the frosting off of his first half dozen attempts. She made it look so easy when she showed him how to hold the pastry bag to make the delicate spiral like swirls.

Still, Louis has to give Beli credit, she was patient the entire time. Even when he kept unconsciously licking his fingers, but the frosting was that good. Having to wash his hands at least five times was so worth it.

They moved on to making another batch of frosting when Beli ran out and it became painfully clear that they wouldn’t get anywhere as long as she had to refrost every cupcake Louis touched. It turned out that walking with a large open bag of opened confectioner’s sugar wasn’t such a good idea. Especially when the person holding the bag is thinking about the real possibility of their being two Harry Styles.

So it's only logical that Louis would blame the mishap on Harry. It's his fault that Louis tripped and spilled the entire bag of powdered sugar. At least Beli found it funny. Louis just isn’t sure if she was laughing at him for tripping over his own feet or the resulting cloud of white dust that had him fanning and coughing. He'll never make fun of Fizz again, that's for sure.

“I’m sorry, I can't help it,” Caroline laughs harder when Louis frowns at her. “We were only teasing you earlier. Although your clothes are... I mean even though they were a little fancy. Because of the aprons we hardly ever get anything on us,” she adds then reaches across the table to touch Louis’ hair. She comes back with a piece of hardened frosting in her hand.

Caroline’s wasting her time trying to rid Louis of the splattered frosting. It’s in his hair and all over the parts of his shirt the apron didn’t cover.

That disaster happened when Beli walked off to wash her hands and Louis decided he wanted to see how fast the mixer could go. Needless to say he found out really quickly that it can go exceptionally fast. According to a giggling Beli that’s why the highest speed is rarely used. Something Louis would have known if he had just waited for her to come back.

“It’s not my fault that I’m overly curious,” Louis attempts to defend himself, but Caroline laughs harder.

She’s been laughing almost the entire half hour since they sat at the table to wait for the kids to finish their talking session. Louis can include Lou in that too. She joined them about twenty minutes ago and she’s been laughing so hard her mascara’s smudged.

Really the clothes aren’t a big deal. Louis has at least a dozen more shirts just like the one he has on and even more pairs of identical trousers. His ruined shoes are another matter. He only has the one pair of five hundred dollar drivers

At the time he purchased them Louis considered the shoes a splurge. Now both drivers are splattered with red food coloring thanks to the over enthusiastic way he opened the industrial sized bottle of food coloring. In his need to make up for his other gaffs Louis tried to prove he was good at something, but he underestimated how full the bottle was. Tilting it to open it definitely wasn’t one of his brightest moments.

“You were just trying to be helpful, little one,” Lou repeats the pet name Beli gave Louis, and both women start laughing.

Louis can’t even pretend to be offended, He’s never been that insecure about his build and in light of the messes he made in her kitchen, Beli could’ve have been much less patient and kind. “At least I have a new friend," Louis smiles because despite her patience, Beli did kind of rush him out of the kitchen.

The nod to his lack of skills didn’t insult Louis in the least. He was just overjoyed to be done. Then in a moment of profound gratitude he grabbed Beli's face and pulled her down for a full on kiss.

“What did she say after you kissed her?” Lou asks after she settles down, but Louis’ doesn’t get a chance to answer.

“You’re a disaster in the kitchen, but I like you, little one,” Niall comes up behind them, quoting Beli word for word. He stops beside Lou’s chair and hangs the backpack he's carrying on it. “I thought she was going to punch you. Nobody invades Beli’s space, but you and your sweet balls just walk up to her and kiss her. I’ll never get over that shit. Or that little deal between you and the boss. Care to explain what that was?”

“At least I didn’t end up in the giant mixing bowl. I’m pretty sure that’s where it was headed,” Louis hurries to rush over the last part of Niall's statement before anyone else has a chance to delve into it. Thankfully his prediction is met with another round of laughter and no questions about his and Harry's _little deal._

“So, is she a good kisser?” Niall asks, but the watchfulness in his blue eyes doesn't quite match the light tone.

“Why, are you jealous?” Louis asks insolently, and judging the blush staining Niall’s cheeks, he might be. No one else seems to notice it, and that's the only reason Louis doesn’t point it out like he wants to. It’s a good thing because the subject of their conversation appears at his side out of nowhere.

“For you, little one," Beli sits a small pastry box in front of him.

Louis is struck again at how captivating her plain features are. "You’re spoiling me,” he guesses the contents of the box before he opens the it. "Thank you, Beli," his mouth waters in anticipation after taking an appreciative sniff of the cupcakes inside.

“You’re welcome,” Beli throws an arm across Louis' shoulder. “Now, I’ll say goodnight. Big delivery tomorrow,” she draws Louis to her side, squeezing him before she lets go.

“It was really nice meeting you,” Louis says after Caroline and Lou say their goodnights.

“We’ll meet again,” Beli sounds like it’s a certainty, but Louis isn’t so sure. Except for dropping Fizzy off and picking her up he has no plan to return to the bakery anytime soon.

“Wait up, Beli. I’ll walk out with you,” Niall speaks up, maybe a little louder than he needs to. “My week to open,” he explains quickly, before grabbing his backpack, and rushing after Beli.

“What did you do to our Beli, little one? She's practically putty in your hands,” Lou says with amazement in her eyes, drawing Louis’ attention from Niall’s and Beli’s exit. “You should feel pretty special right now.”

“Kind of hard to when the owner hates me,” Louis sighs, feeling stupefied and morose again.

“Don’t let Harry get to you, his last relationship ended badly. The guy was a total ass and Harry’s still beating himself up about getting involved with him,” Lou talks as if that explains everything.

“What does that have to do with me, and I don’t see him taking it out on anyone else,” Louis complains. For some unexplainable reason he’s comfortable with these two women. Except for Liam and his husband, Zayn, Louis can't think of anyone else he’s ever felt this at ease with.

“It has more to do with you than you think. By the way did you come dressed like that to impress him?” Lou asks bluntly, and the implication is clear.

“Impress who?” Louis avoids.

“You know who?” Lou asserts dryly.

“She’s talking about Harry for those in the room who really don’t know,” Caroline whispers, obviously teasing.

Lou snorts, and Louis only smiles because they're both ridiculous. “Okay, but I just wanted to show him that I’m not a slouch. I think he had a problem with the way I was dressed the last time I was here.”

“You sure you didn’t want to impress him just a little?” Caroline asks, wearing the same look of doubt as Lou.

“Maybe that was part of it, but not anymore,” Louis does not shrink under the scrutiny. “He's made it pretty clear that he’s not interested," he's convinced Harry was about to strangle him in the corridor earlier. The fantasy of it being an almost kiss is long gone and he's not even remotely attempting to explain what happened between him and Harry in Beli's kitchen.

“I can tell you’re really a great person, Louis. So is Harry, just give him a little time to see the real you,” Lou tells him.

“I haven’t shown him anything but the real me,” Louis responds indignantly.

“Ready to go, babe,” Lou’s husband interrupts whatever she was about to say. It wouldn’t have made difference anyway. Louis’ mind is made up. Except for his involvement with Fizzy, Harry Styles doesn’t exist to him anymore.

“Yeah, I am. My day off with Luxy Lux tomorrow,” Lou says, talking about the adorable five year old that she showed Louis several pictures of from her phone. “I really hope I’ll see you again,” she says to Louis.

“Me too,” Louis tows the line between honesty and not giving false hope. He’d love to get to know Lou and Caroline better. Niall and Beli too, but not if he has to step inside _The Happy Banana_ to do it.

“I’ll see you for lunch on Sunday?” Lou turns to Caroline

“Yes, and you have a great day tomorrow with that beautiful daughter of yours,” Caroline responds.

“I plan on it,” Lou stands up before taking her husband’s hand.

“By C.W. Nice meeting you, Louis,” Tom adds, letting Lou pull him away after Louis returns the nice acknowledgment.

“Can I just say Michael Bastian would probably croak if he saw his shirt right now,” Caroline says after a small silence, looking soulfully at the ruined silk.

“How do you know this is a Bastian?” Louis asks, perking up instantly. Too many designers make shirts from identical patterns. He wouldn’t even know whose design it is if it weren’t for the label.

“Because it’s a stylist’s job to know,” Caroline grabs Louis’ attention even more.

“You’re a stylist?” 

“I am,” Caroline nods. “It's what I did for a living before I had Derrick and decided to be a stay at home mom, but after the divorce I decided to throw my hat back into the arena. Thankfully some of my old connections were still around. It hasn't been exactly easy, but I didn’t expect it to be.”

“And now?” Louis questions.

“More doors are opening every day,” Caroline smiles proudly. “Actually, I’ve been offered to the job of styling an up and coming boyband.”

“Which one?” Louis asks. "Maybe I've heard of them."

_“Transparency_ ,” Caroline pulls up a picture on her phone to show Louis.

“I haven’t heard of them, but it definitely looks like they could use a stylist,” Louis looks at the group of five boys who look like they all styled themselves. “They’re really cute though, especially the one with the curly hair.”

“Apparently they’re already a big thing in the U.K. Now they want to try to break out into the U.S., and they’ve given me a couple of months to decide. I’m interested, but I don’t know if I want to commit to all the traveling that would come along with the job.”

“I may only be a lowly magazine editor, but I have quite a few connections. I’d be more than willing to help if you decide to turn the job down,” Louis offers sincerely.

With his job a day doesn’t pass without some form of networking occurring, and if he can open a door or two for a deserving person then he considers it payback for all the good that’s happened to him since his start as an unpaid intern.

“Wouldn’t you want to see some of my work first?”

“That’s a given, but I’m sure you’re amazing. You knew this shirt was a Michael Bastian, come on,” Louis isn't talking just to be heard. He's honestly impressed.

“It's the stitching, but thanks for the compliment, and I’ll keep the offer of help in mind,” Caroline says earnestly and an easy silence follows.

“So what’s with Derrick? Why is he here?” Louis breaks the hush, curiosity winning out over the dread of asking.

Caroline shrugs, but her expression is pained. “My husband and I divorced right after the birth of our daughter almost a year ago. Understandably Derrick took it hard, but he’s always been such a good kid. Never caused me and his dad a single problem, but two months after the split he was an entirely different boy. Smarting off to me, not doing his homework, refusing to talk to his dad who he idolized before the divorce, but him getting into a fight at school was the last straw. I just couldn’t sit by and watch my son self-destruct,” she stops talking to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Not when it was my fault for not being able to forgive my husband for being unfaithful.”

“It's not your fault, but I understand why you'd feel like it is,” Louis slides his hand across the table to grasp Caroline's.

“I’ve been coming to the bakery for a couple of years now, but I never thought I’d have to ask Harry to make a space for my own son,” Caroline’s mouth moves like she intends to keep talking, but before she can get a word out she’s interrupted by a noise.

“I had to get this,” Harry awkwardly holds up a clipboard from behind the counter. “Kids can’t sign out without it,” he points to the sheet of paper on the clipboard.

The explanation is enough for Louis. He looks away from Harry to give his attention to the closed sign on the door.

“Almost done?” Caroline asks with forced lightness.

“Shouldn’t be much longer,” Harry responds gently, hesitantly. “You okay, Caro?”

“I’m fine, just filling Louis in on the story of my life,” Caroline smiles, obviously trying to assure the baker. “Nothing you haven’t heard before.”

“I’m sorry if I interrupted,” Harry’s voice full of compassion, and Louis has to swallow a frustrated sigh. Who is this person and what has he done with the real Harry Styles?

“I’ll send the kids out as soon as we’re done,” Harry continues. Then there's only silence.

“I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but Lou’s right, Harry’s a really good person,” Caroline turns back to Louis, and he assumes that means Harry’s gone. “When I asked him if he could make a place for Derrick he didn’t hesitate although the twelve spaces were already filled.”

Louis holds his hand up, suspicion making him frown. He knows for a fact that Fizz was the last person accepted this time around. “What number was Fizzy?”

“Fourteen. Didn’t you know?” Caroline sounds puzzled.

“No,” Louis answers, puzzled. “He said he has to turn kids away,” he adds, frowning harder.

“Harry’s never been able to stick to the original limit he set. He’d accept a hundred kids if he could, but so far the most he’s had at one time is sixteen.”

“Yeah? That’s really good of him,” Louis replies distractedly. He’s more interested in knowing why Harry tried to make him feel guilty with the little speech about responsibility in his office that first day if he didn’t really have to turn kids away like he said.

“You know, I’ve already seen glimpses of the old Derrick. He's almost treating me like his mother again, not someone he just has to tolerate,” Caroline draws Louis back to the conversation.

“Fizzy seems to be having a positive experience too,” Louis isn’t ready to admit that he’s seen significant changes in his sister. It’s kind of hard to accept that whatever Harry’s doing with the kids, he’s doing it right.

“Why is she here?” Caroline asks, and she looks towards the glass front of the bakery when a car drives into the parking lot.

“Put the birth of our twin brother and sister in place of your divorce, a stolen purse in the place of Derrick's fight, and you basically have the same story,” Louis broods, omitting his suspicions about it being something more than that for now.

“Well, if anybody can help her, Harry can. He really has a gift,” Caroline credits Harry some more, and Louis rolls his eyes. That’s all it takes for the heavy atmosphere to lift.

Caroline laughs at the petulant display. “Okay, okay. I’ll hop off the Harry Styles admiration bus for now.”

“No, don’t get off on my account, I'd just prefer a different bus,” Louis sighs.

“Personally, I think Harry's gone for you, and I’m positive it’s just foreplay on his part,” Caroline gives an exaggerated wink.

“Well he’s shit at it. I actually feel like I’m in the Antarctica every time he’s in the room. Must have learned his mating skills from an albatross,” Louis is only slightly teasing. The best he can do is muster up a small smile, but Caroline laughs so hard tears wet her eyelashes.

“What so funny, and what happened to your clothes?” Fizzy startles Louis when she appears at the table, but he’s nowhere near surprised to see Derrick standing beside her.

They aren’t the only ones coming from the back, but Fizzy and Derrick are the only two who don’t go straight for the door. Harry’s at the tail end of the group, but somehow he makes it to the door first, holding it open for the other kids to go through.

Louis observes the other participants as they start getting into the line of cars one by one. “A small joke, and you really don’t want to know what happened to my clothes,” he answers his sister absently. Usually he's in the short succession of vehicles, but he never communicates with Harry. Most of the time he keeps his head averted until Fizzy’s inside the car. Now he feels strangely deprived as Harry bends to speak to some of the drivers.

“Let’s get out of here,” Caroline grabs her purse from the back of the chair before standing and heading for the door, Derrick and Fizzy right behind her.

Louis follows the three of the out of the bakery, more than ready to go. The only problem is by the time they're all outside Harry’s waving the last car off, freeing him up in the process.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Harry’s eyes briefly dart to Louis before he focuses his attention on the others. “You’ll be here?” he asks Caroline.

“Not tomorrow. I have a meeting with a client that’ll probably run pretty late. Afterwards I have to get Brooklyn from her dad,” Caroline explains while Louis stings from feeling awkward and out of place.

“Do you think I could work with Beli tomorrow? She said she’d show me how to color and roll out fondant,” Derrick asks Harry before wrapping an arm around his mother’s shoulder. The look of joy on Caroline’s face from the small gesture is telling.

“Me too, please,” Fizzy joins in, practically bouncing up and down with excitement.

Louis realizes he’s not needed so he cuts in before Harry can respond to his sister and Derrick. “I’ll just wait for you in the car,” he tells Fizzy before leaving the group to finish their conversation, waving to anybody interested before he walks off.

“Hey, do you want to do lunch sometime?” Caroline startles Louis just as he opens the door to the Mercedes.

“I’d like that,” Louis responds, happy for the distraction and the invitation. “Are you free next week any? Off the top of my head I think I can do Tuesday or Wednesday.”

“I’m pretty sure I can do Tuesday. Give me your number and I’ll let you know for sure tomorrow,” Caroline takes her phone out, and by the time they’ve exchanged numbers Fizzy joins them.

Unable to deny the pull, Louis looks over to where Harry’s standing and he experiences a jolt when he meets the baker’s pensive stare. In the well lit parking lit he can clearly see Harry and something that resembles regret playing out on his face.

Louis tears his eyes away from the somber image. He has no idea what the look means, and at this point he doesn’t particularly care.

ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ

Louis uses the remote to turn the music up, and he starts humming along to the music when he's satisfied with the volume.

Having the surround sound system installed throughout the condo was an extravagant Christmas gift to himself two years ago, and there are no regrets over the expensive price tag as Louis shimmies his hips to the beat on his way to the kitchen.

It’s Friday night and for the first time in months he has the entire weekend off. No layouts to approve, no deadlines, no event to attend. He has absolutely nothing to do on his calendar and he plans on keeping it that way.

Fizzy’s gone too. She's gone home because out of nowhere Jay insisted she start staying home on the weekends, and because today was a student holiday Jay picked Fizzy up when school let out yesterday. Surprisingly Fizzy didn’t argue. She actually seemed happy to be spending the weekend at home, and without the worry of his sister being forced to do something she didn’t want to, Louis is happy to be duty free for the first time in over a month.

Other than eating, showering, and going to the bathroom it’ll be a miracle if he moves off of the couch before Sunday. Tonight his only goal is to listen to music and get drunk on the bottle of wine he has chilling in the refrigerator.

Okay that’s two goals, but who’s counting?

Louis sure isn’t. “To go big or to go small. The decisions before me,” he debates the size of the wine glass he wants, but his doorbell rings just as he reaches into the cabinet to grab the largest wine glass he owns.

Surprised and annoyed at the intrusion, Louis picks up the remote to turn the music off to be sure he heard right.

He did. The intruder presses his doorbell again.

Louis sighs, almost giving into the temptation to ignore it. He can’t think of a single person who’d be ringing his doorbell right now. All he knows is whoever it is better have a damn good reason for taking him away from his wine and music.

Louis is so put off he doesn’t even think to look through the peephole, and despite the possibility that a serial killer could be on the other side he jerks the door open. “Ye…,” he goes to say yes, but the s disappears somewhere in the back of his open mouth.

“Is it okay if we talk?” Harry _frigging_ Styles asks him.

Louis is able to close his mouth, but he can't stop himself from doing a quick inspection of his visitor.

Harry’s hair is in the ever present bun. He’s wearing a paisley printed shirt that looks a lot like an Alexander McQueen. It’s an almost impeccable copy and it looks amazing paired with a sinfully tight pair of black jeans. The look is completed with pair of suede boots Louis would think were actual Yves Saint Laurent’s if he thought a baker could afford them. Although just like the shirt, the boots are very nice knockoffs. Wherever Harry’s getting his designer copies from he’s getting his money’s worth that’s for sure.

Done with the short appraisal Louis meets the green eyed stare of the person he’s done a good job of not thinking about for minutes at a time over the past week and a half. He’s been brilliant at it as a matter of fact. He made it through his entire lunch date with Caroline and the phone calls they shared before and after without thinking about Harry much at all. When he dropped Fizzy off at the bakery or picked her up he went back to turning his head so he wouldn’t have to look at Harry, and it was almost easy to do.

Work helped some. Liam and Zayn, and their new daughter helped. Taking care of Fizzy helped to keep Harry from being a permanent thought in his brain.

Louis only encountered trouble at night, when he was alone in his bed. Then he couldn’t ignore the curious ache in the pit of his stomach, but he didn’t make it to the ripe old age of twenty seven without experiencing an unreciprocated attraction before. The few times it’s happened he was quick to shake it off and move on. It’s bugging him to no end that he can’t let it go so quickly this time, but maybe if he knew the reason Harry disliked him so much it would be easier to move on.

“I can come back if this is a bad time,” Harry offers when Louis just stares.

“What are you doing here?” Louis snaps back to the present, sticking his head out the door to see if anyone else is lurking around. Somebody has to be playing a joke on him. It’s the only plausible explanation. “How do you even know where I live?”

“Got the address from Fizzy’s file,” Harry clarifies, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

“Then you could’ve easily gotten my phone number from there too,” Louis says stiffly. Harry might not have the unfriendly look on his face right now, but that doesn’t mean anything’s changed between them.

“Was pretty sure you wouldn’t answer, but if you’re busy…,” Harry doesn’t finish the sentence and they stare at each other while Louis debates his answer.

In the end curiosity wins out, but not without an annoyed sigh from Louis. “Come in,” he steps back to let Harry pass and to say that it feels strange to have this person of all people in his apartment is putting it lightly.

“Thanks,” Harry stops just inside the door.

Louis walks the few feet it takes to make it to his living room, leaving Harry to follow. “So what do you want to talk me about?" he stops in front of the sofa he intends on occupying for the weekend, and he instinctively folds his arms across his chest.

“Fizzy missed yesterday, and although she gave me advance warning, the news should’ve come from you, Louis. I waited for you to say something when you picked her up on Wednesday, but drove away without even looking at me,” Harry speaks firmly, but awkwardly. “Kids lie sometimes, and it would be foolish of me to take only their word for something like this. Even from someone as trustworthy as Fizzy,” he finishes, and he sort of looks like he’s pleading for understanding. “I know we didn’t start out the best of terms, but you should’ve at least called to verify it.”

Surprisingly Louis agrees with everything Harry said, but there’s no way he’ll take the entire blame. “Whose fault is it that we didn’t start out on the best terms? Who made it clear that they couldn’t wait to see the back of me?” he says irately. “Yes, it might’ve been silly of me to leave it up to Fizz to pass the information along, but don’t fault me for avoiding you as much as I possibly can.”

“You could’ve called Niall,” Harry points out. “He’s listed as a contact on the paperwork I gave you.”

Louis silently admits the validity of the point. “Are you sure you couldn’t have waited until I picked Fizzy up on Monday to talk about this?” he counters, just as validly he thinks.

“I didn’t think you’d want to discuss this in front of her,” Harry argues, and Louis’ anger evaporates instantly.

“That’s what your office is for,” Louis answers back, but his tone is no longer biting. “But you’re right, I should’ve contacted you and I’m sorry. There’s no excuse,” he adds, feeling a little embarrassed by his actions. “It won’t happen again, but my mom did stop by the bakery last night didn’t she?” 

When Jay kept going on about meeting the person responsible for the change in her daughter, Louis encouraged her to visit the bakery. In his mind that completely absolved him of any involvement in Fizzy’s absence.

“She did, and your mom's really nice, Louis,” Harry responds and he should’ve left it at that. “But your mom isn’t who Fizzy lives with right now. I know I’ve said it before, but I really can’t do this if I don’t have responsible parents or _guardians_ backing me up.”

Louis’ head snaps up to shoot blue daggers and he shakes his head out of exasperation because he's positive he's never met anyone more clueless than Harry Styles.

“It may not look like it to you, but I’ve got responsibility coming out of my pores. For starters I’ve been living on my own since I was seventeen, working fulltime since I was fifteen, and I’ve never missed a rent payment. Maybe a few meals, but never rent. I worked two jobs while I was in college, and I still managed to get my degree in three years. In six years I’ve worked my way up from an unpaid magazine intern to editor, and subscriptions have more than tripled under my leadership. When I took over from my predecessor I had a staff of six people, now we have nineteen full time employees, seven part timers, and three interns. Do you know what else? Because of my age I have to work ten times harder than anyone else in my position, but I do it without complaining because my work speaks for itself. I've worked my ass off, and I deserve to be exactly where I am. I won’t let you or anyone else tell me otherwise.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Harry hedges. "I'm sorry if you misunderstood."

“I know what you meant and you may not agree, but I take good care of Fizzy. She hasn’t missed a day of school since she’s been here. She eats regularly, she’s getting good grades, and except for that first time, I’ve made sure she gets to the bakery early,” Louis stops to take a breath, but he’s nowhere near finished. “I’m so set on taking good care of my sister that I haven’t had as much as a sip of wine in the five weeks she’s been here. Tonight is the first opportunity I’ve had to change that, and I’m not about to let an uptight self-righteous baker stop me.”

“I’m not uptight or self-righteous, and I think you’re great with Fizzy,” Harry looks close to traumatized.

“Good to know,” Louis responds sarcastically. “Well, I have my wine thing to take care of and I’m sure you have something to do on this lovely Friday night,” he leaves off so get out, but he’s pretty sure Harry’s no dummy.

“I don’t have anything to do. Not tonight anyway,” Harry offers the information, then it looks like he’s about three seconds from slapping his hand over his mouth.

Louis wants to do it for him. That’s after he shoves the words back down Harry’s throat. “Is this the scene in the movie where I’m supposed to offer you a glass of wine?” he mocks because there’s no way he would even consider it.

“Is this scene where you’re offering?” Harry asks, sounding something like hopeful.

The question might throw Louis into a small state of confusion. Knock him off kilter a little, but he can still think of a thousand derisive ways to respond. Yet for some reason only known to the universe. “I can only spare one glass,” is what he eventually comes out with.

“It's a deal,” Harry accepts the stiff offer, sounding just as stiff.

“This way,” Louis moves on bare feet towards his kitchen, trying to not to be self-conscious. His navy Daniel Buchler lounge bottoms and matching tee can’t compete with Harry’s outfit, but there’s nothing to be done about it now. At least his pajamas aren't knockoffs, he's not cheating the real designer like his visitor is.

“Right behind you,” Harry trails behind without making any noise on the hardwood floor despite the knockoff boots.

Once in the kitchen Louis moves over to counter where he left the large wine glass and he places it back in the cabinet to exchange it for two smaller ones. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Harry standing just inside the kitchen entrance, and that's when it hits him. He’s about to share his wine with the person who’s made his life miserable since the day he met him.

“Nice kitchen,” Harry says conversationally.

Louis looks around the room, seeing nothing new. It’s a kitchen, larger than average with marble counters and all black appliances. A long bar separates it from the main dining area, and yeah it’s nice, but that’s about it. Nothing remarkable or noteworthy.

“Thanks,” Louis shrugs before sitting the glasses down to look for his corkscrew. It’s one of the electric ones, and it’s big enough that it shouldn’t be hard to spot, but of course tonight it would be.

“Can I help you with anything?” Harry asks, moving from behind the bar to come directly in the kitchen.

“Not unless you can tell me where the wine opener is,” Louis bends over to look inside his utensil drawer, sticking his bum all the way out to get a better look inside, and lo and behold there it is. “Got it,” he says triumphantly when he’s upright again, his back still to Harry. “I only have red."

“I usually stick to beer, but I’m sure red will be fine,” Harry divulges quietly and a bit unenthusiastically.

That does it for Louis. The thought of his pinot noir going unappreciated makes him turn around with pursed lips. “Listen, I don’t mean to be rude, but why are you here? It’s definitely not for the wine, and we both know you didn’t have to come here for us to have your little talk. So what do you really want, Harry?”

Louis expects Harry to defend himself against the angry onslaught. Or maybe just give up and leave. He definitely doesn’t expect to see Harry’s eyes light up with need. The same need that transforms the expression on his face from mild surprise to almost tortured.

“You, Louis. I just want you and I can't fight it anymore,” Harry admits bluntly as he makes his way over to a stunned Louis. “Tell me I haven't got it wrong. Please say it’s mutual,” he breathes, the look in his eyes so intense Louis feels faint.

“Okay,” he complies easily, but for sanity purposes he blames his months long lack of sex for the way he moans when Harry's tongue makes it way inside his mouth.

ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ

“So glad__. Fuck! Fuck!” Louis keens loudly, and the only way he stays upright is by bracing his hands on Harry’s sweaty shoulders. “So glad you came over,” he finishes when he can get the words out. He follows them with another loud moan.

“Louis!” Harry digs his hands into Louis’ hips and he slams into him again, meeting the hurried pace Louis set when the slow up and down wasn’t cutting it for him anymore.

“Fuck, Harry! I can’t,” Louis struggles for breath and composure. He fails, but he doesn’t care when Harry’s driving into him like there’s no tomorrow. “Don’t stop!” he orders when Harry hits at just the right angle. “Do that again,” he demands. "Please, do that again. Now!”

“You’re a talker,” Harry loosens his grip on Louis’ hips to reach around and cup his bottom.

Louis didn’t realize he’d been talking a lot especially since his mouth has been occupied with Harry’s tongue, dick, and various patches of his skin, but okay. “You have a problem with it?” he teases before bending down to suck on Harry’s bottom lip. He flicks his tongue over it before slipping into the dark silk of Harry’s mouth and he kisses him hard.

Harry kisses him back, tangling their tongues, greedily swapping saliva with Louis. “Next time you want a kiss just say so,” he says when the break apart.

Louis does not get harder at the mention of a next time, but only because he can’t get any harder. He passed that milestone a few minutes after he fully seated himself on Harry’s impressive length.

“So,” Louis mumbles against Harry’s mouth, and quick to catch on, Harry opens wide.

Louis can’t get enough of the way their mouths attach so effortlessly. It feels like they’ve kissed a thousand times before, but it’s still so new and hot that it gives him butterflies. He eagerly engages in the tongue battle, losing himself in the steady back and forth while Harry repeatedly squeezes his ass.

After a few minutes Harry moves his hands back up to grip Louis’ hips before he trailing erratic little kisses along Louis’ jawline. “Louis,” he rasps, attempting to pick up the pace again by thrusting, but he can’t do it with Louis laying on his chest.

Louis lifts up into a sitting position again. He knows what Harry wants. He wants the same thing, but more than anything he wants control so before Harry can move he raises his bottom as high as he can without lifting all the way off. He drops back down again with mind jarring force.

“Fuck!,” Louis moans, then he picks up speed while Harry’s hold on his hips tightens.

“No,” Harry pleads when Louis takes a quick break to adjust and move the wet hair off of his forehead.

"Yes," Louis is just as needy. He feels the telling heat crawling through his veins and over his skin, but he needs Harry to come first. He’s given the baker enough power over his emotions to last a lifetime. Now it’s his turn exert a little power and he’s taking full advantage of it. He’s been in control from the second he took over the kiss in the kitchen. He was still in control when he pulled Harry to his bedroom and dropped to his knees the second the stepped inside. He was definitely in charge when he handed Harry the lube and a condom.

Louis only yielded a little of his power while Harry opened him up, but he took it right back when he pushed his eager visitor over onto his back and straddled him. Except for those brief fifteen or so minutes Louis has had all the control. He’s not about to give it up now by coming first so he braces his knees against Harry’s side and squeezes his ass as hard as he can.

"Close,” Harry chokes out harshly, his face twisted with need. 

It’s exactly what Louis has been waiting on and he wants to see it. He wants to see Harry shatter. "Please be close," he moans.

Louis ignores the too painful hold on his hips and he ignores the tension building in his body as he moves up and down. He’s watching so intently he’s caught off guard when Harry opens his eyes, but Louis can’t look away. He can't do anything, but feel. 

If possible, Harry’s pupils expand even more. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he confesses like the information was pulled from him at gunpoint.

_Fuck!_. Four shitty words and Louis loses his precious control. He feels every inch of his skin tighten before the muscles in his stomach clinch painfully. Then he comes without being touched and definitely without his consent. He comes in hot spurts all over Harry’s chest and stomach.

Louis’ eyes close on their own volition and he throws his head back in pure ecstasy. "Fuck, it feels good. So good."

It actually feels fucking amazing, and Louis moans as the aftershocks keep sending little jolts of pleasure through his body.

“Louis,” Harry holds Louis still and he braces his feet on the mattress. He drives into Louis with so much force that he has to bite his bottom lip to keep from crying out.

Louis can’t hold back the moan the next time, more from his overly sensitized insides than actual pain. It takes one more lunge from Harry before he tenses up, and even as sensitive as he is Louis feels the telling pulsations. He watches Harry through his orgasm, captivated by how beautiful he looks with his hair fanned out over the pillow and with his throat is working, but no sounds coming from it.

Louis thinks Harry’s face could serve as the definition of bliss and he stares for way longer than what could be considered normal. He doesn't stop staring until Harry opens his eyes. Then he lifts up, despite it taking every ounce of the energy he has left.

“Kiss me,” Harry tries to pull him down, but Louis braces his hands on Harry’s broad shoulders. He cautiously lifts up and off Harry’s length before plopping down beside him with an exhausted huff. Of course the top sheet bunches up under him.

Louis huffs again, then lifts his hips to pull the sheet out, making sure the eight hundred thread count cotton stays far away from Harry’s chest and stomach while he straightens it.

“That might be hot to watch in a movie, but there’s no way I’m getting that on me,” Louis points to the pearly hued mess decorating Harry’s chest. He sounds teasing, but really he just doesn’t want to complicate things by giving in to the kiss request. Right now this doesn’t have to be anything they don’t want it to be.

“I’m almost afraid to ask what kind of movies you’ve been watching. And you do know this is yours, right?” Harry gestures to Louis’ come, smiling with his entire face and Louis’ stomach knots up.

Still, despite the knots and him not replying to Harry’s question, there's no awkwardness. If anything it’s soothing to lay beside the person you just had amazing sex with and wait for the world to start spinning at the normal speed again.

Louis hasn’t quite made it there yet when Harry sits up. “Bathroom?” he slings his long legs on the side of the bed and when he stands up Louis points to a door on the other side of the room.

“Washcloths are over the sink.”

“Thanks,” Harry says before he disappears behind the closed door.

Louis lays quiet for a minute then he stretches to test the waters and he smiles because his body is sore in all the right places. It’s been almost seven months since he had sex, and it feels good. Really, really, really, good.

“I owe you an apology,” Harry startles Louis just as he goes to stretch again. He didn’t hear Harry come out of the bathroom and he opens his eyes to find his guest standing beside the bed in impossibly short hot pink boxers.

Louis doesn’t remember the sexy underwear from earlier, but that can be blamed on the fact that he was in too much of a hurry to get Harry out of all of his clothes. Now that he’s not so preoccupied he can take in all of the baker’s tattooed glory.

Before tonight Louis never considered himself a tattoo person, but Harry looks like a walking piece of art. He counts at least eight on Harry’s left arm, but the mermaid, the rose, and the anchor are the most intriguing. On second thought, the butterfly on Harry’s stomach and the pair of swallows on each side of his chest are just as fascinating. Then there are the laurels peeking out from the top of his boxers. Each tattoo is amazing.

"You definitely have an affinity for tattoos," Louis' eyes travel back up to Harry's face.

"Something like that, but as I was saying, I owe you an apology," Harry answers.

“Fucking right, you owe me an apology," Louis lets Harry change the subject, "I didn’t get to drink my wine because of you,” he teases in an attempt to erase he somber look on Harry’s face.

“Can I get it for you now?” Harry asks eagerly, and the unexpected response has Louis rushing to reassure him.

“I was only kidding. Honestly, Harry, I’m not a lush.”

“No, I really want to get it for you.”

Again Harry sounds too eager and Louis lifts up on his elbows to study him. “Hey, is everything okay?” he asks, for the first time considering it might not be. 

“Yeah, I just think the wine might help us relax,” Harry explains staunchly.

“And by us, you mean you?” Louis searches Harry’s eyes for an answer, but he doesn’t get one. “Okay, wine it is,” he concedes. “I left the opener on the counter, the wine is in the fridge.” 

“Back in a second,” Harry leaves the bedroom without saying anything else, and Louis is left with a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach that has a lot to do with the thought of Harry piddling around in his kitchen.

Louis kind of feels weird about the entire night, but the need to empty his bladder is more pressing than worrying about it.

“Shit!” he winces when stands up. It’s a little more soreness than he bargained on, and the inability to walk without limping comes as a surprise too. Yeah, seven months is a long time, but he’s gone without sex for much longer. He went without for almost two years after he started interning at _Modern Man_ , and when he finally did have sex again, he was no where near this sore. He may not recall much about the drunken one night stand, but that much he remembers.

Despite the small limp the pain is back to a pleasant ache by the time Louis comes out of the bathroom, and he crawls back under the sheet to wait and wonder what Harry wants to talk about. If he regretted the sex he would’ve just gotten dressed and left. Not walk around in his boxers with no sense of modesty.

The Fizzy misunderstanding is taken care of. At least Louis thought it was, but maybe that’s it. Maybe Harry’s not done with his lecture on responsibility.

“That would really suck ass,” Louis mutters, annoyed at the thought. He’s too sleepy and too sated to listen to any of that again.

“Took a minute to figure out how to work the opener,” Harry holds out the opened bottle of wine and a single glass when he walks in the bedroom. He’s so tall and lean, standing in the doorway with his obscene hair in disarray. His beautiful eyes and mouth are just as offensive. To make matters more appealing, the pink boxers aren’t hiding anything. Harry’s dick is resting just to the left, and even soft it’s imposing.

Louis thinks that explains his limp. “Is that what took so long?” he taunts jokingly.

“This alright?” Harry nods towards the bed. “Or do you want me to sit over there?” he looks at the plush chair over in the corner.

Louis sighs because the weird feeling keeps coming back. “Climb in,” he moves the top sheet back before making a big show of plumping a pillow against the head board.

“Does any of this make you feel awkward because I don’t. Feel awkward I mean, and I’d hate it if you do,” Harry rambles until he’s situated, and resting his back against the pillow.

“Curious, yes. Awkward, no,” Louis sits up, thinking he’d be at a disadvantage with Harry sitting up. “Are we sharing?” he adds when he remembers the one glass.

“Do you mind?” Harry busies himself pouring the wine, and when the glass is full he takes a nice sized sip.

“No, I don’t think I do,” Louis reaches out for the glass then purposefully drinks from the same spot as Harry. He takes another drink before giving it back. “Would’ve been hard to share with you sitting across the room,” he can’t resist the dig.

Harry just stares intently at the wine, then in a move Louis isn’t expecting, he lifts the glass to his mouth before draining it. He sits the empty glass on the nightstand beside the wine bottle and after a small pause he sits back against the pillow. This time turning his intense gaze on Louis.

“So much for not drinking wine,” Louis teases, mentally shrinking away from the penetrating stare.

“It’s better than what I’ve had in the past,” Harry doesn’t respond to the teasing. “Do you want more?”

Harry reaches for the glass, but Louis puts out a hand to stop him. “I don’t need wine for you to tell me you regret having sex with me.”

“No, fuck no! That was amazing. Better than amazing,” Harry rushes to reassure, pleading with his eyes. “I’m bad at this,” he growls in frustration before agitatedly running a hand through his hair.

Louis is struck with images of burying his hands in the mass of curls and his fingers tingle with the need to feel the silk tresses again. “Bad at what?” he balls his hands into fists to stop from reaching out to fulfill the need.

“Apologizing for being a dick to you. You didn’t deserve the way I treated you,” Harry answers, sounding upset.

Louis smiles in relief. He’d been worried for nothing. “No, I didn’t deserve it. You humiliated me, and let’s not forget, you almost got me thrown into a giant mixing bowl,” he scoffs playfully, then startles when Harry throws his head back, and laughs freakishly loud.

“That was all your fault, little one. Still can’t believe you’re not missing a vital body part for speeding the mixer up.”

“No thanks to you, but Beli and I are practically best friends now.”

Louis is stretching it with the best friends claim, but Beli did keep him company the one night he got to the bakery an hour early. Beli knocked on the driver's window not long after he got there, and when he refused to inside, they sat at one of the outside tables. They talked about Louis’ job, the Supreme Court’s ruling on gay marriage, the humid LA weather. Anything, but Harry, and that was fine with Louis.

“She really likes you,” Harry says.

“I really like her too,” Louis smiles, remembering his turbulent beginning with Beli, and Niall’s shiftiness about the kiss. “I think Niall wants to marry her.”

“You noticed?” Harry sounds surprised.

“With Niall, yeah. He's kind of obvious,” Louis responds contemplatively. “Beli, I’m not so sure about, but I do feel like there could be something there. What do you think?”

“I think I can see why everyone’s singing your praises. In case you didn’t know it all of my friends are big fans of you,” Harry doesn’t sound happy.

“That bothers you?” Louis asks, frowning. As much as he’s enjoyed tonight, he’s getting frustrated with the rollercoaster ride that’s Harry Styles.

“No it doesn’t bother me. At least not in the way you're thinking,” Harry insists before taking a deep breath. “If anything it makes me feel worse. I swore to myself I’d never date someone as beautiful as you ever again.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not beautiful,” Louis scoffs.The description belongs to the models he works with. His ex-boyfriend Luke, and Harry even, but definitely not him.

Harry disagrees. “Your eyes, Louis. I can't count the times I've dreamed about how blue they are, and even in the fancy joggers you had on that first day, you took my breath away. I'm not even counting the look you gave me when you turned around.”

“Are you sure it was a look? Maybe I had something in my eye,” Louis doesn’t try to make a serious attempt. It’d be kind of silly to deny the instant attraction when they just had sex.

“Yeah, it’s called I think he’s hot and I want to see him naked,” Harry responds dryly, but he quickly returns to serious. “I promised myself I’d never go down that route again, but one look at you and I was ready to throw every bit of resolve I’ve ever had out the window.”

Louis is relieved to know he wasn’t crazy in thinking the instant feelings were mutual, but curiosity and compassion wins out over his urge to discuss the fact in greater detail. “This has something to do with the bad experience Lou mentioned?” 

“Lou has a big mouth, but yeah,” Harry’s voice is full of regret. “He was beautiful on the outside, flawed on the inside. I’m ashamed to say it took me nine months to finally admit it.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. We’ve all made that mistake in one form or another,” Louis responds, sympathizing and relating. “Heartbreak is shitty, but you can’t let it defeat you. You have to move on," he might be giving advice he hasn’t quite taken himself, but in Louis' defense, he’s not running away from love. The emotion has just proved elusive since last serious relationship.

“He broke something, but I’m not so sure it was my heart,” Harry sighs before leaning back against the headboard.

“Classic case of denial,” Louis argues before another thought comes to him. “Was he violent?”

“His name is Sergio Florenza. Serge for short, and no he wasn’t that type of cruel. He was just mean, and mean spirited too,” Harry’s voice fades to almost nothing.

“Go on,” Louis encourages softly.

“Where do I start?”

“Anywhere you want to,” Louis leaves the door open for Harry to leave out anything he’s uncomfortable sharing. It’s his story to tell, however much of it he wants to tell.

Harry nods then begins talking with haunted eyes. “Whenever Serge would get angry, which was a lot near the end, he’d tell me he was too good for me and for some fucking reason I believed him. I mean, what did an up and coming model want with a measly baker? I used to ask myself that all the time and I never came up with an answer in my favor. So I ignored it when he kicked me out of his apartment after we had sex because he said I made his sheets smell like the yeast.”

“Fucking unnecessary,” Louis has never heard anything so demeaning. Or cruel, and he knows cruel.

“I gave in and purchased an entire wardrobe full of designer labels because he said my regular clothes embarrassed him…,”

“So the shirt and boots aren’t knockoffs,” Louis interrupts, guessing out loud.

“No, did you think they were?” Harry lets out puzzled laugh.

“Might’ve been a little presumptuous of me, but I didn’t think a baker could afford Yves Saint Laurent,” Louis confesses, embarrassed now at how snobbish he sounds.

“I can’t buy the entire store, but I can afford a few pieces here and there,” Harry doesn’t sound like he took offense, if anything his voice fills with more regret. “Finding out I like designer apparel is the only positive thing I can say about the relationship."

Louis has no idea how to respond to that so he doesn’t. “I’m sorry I interrupted you. Tell me more if you want,” he urges quietly.

“I guess treating me like shit wasn’t enough for Serge. He was an ass to my friends too, and for a while I allowed it. I became a deaf mute when he made fun of Lou’s tattoos. He used to say no real woman would have all those tattoos. Yet he never once mocked Tom for having them.”

“He sounds like a massive asshole, Harry,” Louis fumes, but it quickly changes to confusion. “Wait, but you have tattoos too?”

“Got the first one after he called Lou a circus freak. Then I kept getting tattoos because I liked them. By the time we broke up I had four, and except for saying he hoped I didn’t regret them one day, he mostly ignored my tattoos,” Harry frowns after he raises his arm to inspect it. “It took some time, but I finally realized he just liked insulting women.”

“Sounds to me like you were rebelling,” Louis thinks out loud again.

“I think it was more of a soft protest. When I hired Beli and Serge started calling her the thing, I started letting my hair grow, but I never said anything to Serge. I tried to ignore the insults, but the day Beli overheard him call her the thing is the day I knew it was over. I still have nightmares over the look on her face.”

Louis feels extra awful for focusing on Beli’s ambiguousness in the beginning, but there wasn’t an ounce of malice attached to his observations. That’s the difference between him and Harry’s ex.

“She forgave you, yeah?” Louis asks soothingly.

“Beli never blamed me for Serge's actions, but it would probably be different if she knew just how long he’d been calling her that. She thought it was just that one time and I never corrected her. Just like I never told Lou how he put her down her because of her tattoos. Wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. They both hated him.”

“I think you did the right thing by not telling them. It probably would’ve caused more harm than good and it sounds like Beli and Lou had their pick of reasons to not like your ex,” Louis says. 

“You mean besides him being a misogynistic prick?” Harry asks dryly. “On the very rare occasions he would come to the bakery he’d always be so condescending to the staff, and he hated the smell. He didn’t mind telling anyone who’d listen how disgusting he thought it was. Staff or customers, it didn’t matter. So yeah, they had their reasons.”

“Sorry if this seems insensitive, but why would you be with someone like that?” Louis asks candidly, his mouth watering Just thinking about how the bakery smelled. He finds it hard to believe that someone could actually dislike the smell.

“It wasn’t all bad. In the beginning it was amazing and for a while I really thought he was the one,” Harry sounds like he’s about to start making excuses for the asshole and Louis wants to punch him. “Serge changed when he realized he was getting more than the business owner he met in a nightclub. He kind of detested the actual baker who wore red smocks and hairnets most of the time, but we were even because I thought I was getting a man anyone would give up their front teeth to have. Can’t say I’m not vain can you?”

“I don’t know you very well, but you don't seem vain at all,” Louis assures Harry. "Not in the least."

“Then why did it take me almost a year to finally admit I was better off without him?”

“He was really good in bed, wasn’t he?" Louis asks because he knows from experience how good sex can cause a person to turn a blind eye to a lot of things.

“He was okay,” Harry admits, blushing.

“Can I ask how long it’s been since you broke it off?” Louis asks, suddenly curious.

“I thought you were headed somewhere else for a minute there,” Harry laughs, but Louis is confused until he thinks about what he said.

“I most certainly do not want to know how long your ex’s dick is. I don’t make comparisons, and in case I’m on the losing side, I hope you don’t either,” Louis retorts, smiling and loving the sound of Harry's laughter. “Now, my original question stands.”

“Last month made a year. Nothing serious since then,” Harry shrugs, nothing in his voice or on his face to hint that he might still have feelings for his ex.

For some reason that Louis refuses to examine, he’s relieved. “Honestly your Serge sounds like a USDA certified piece of shit. You should be happy to be rid of him.”

“I am happy. Even happier now,” Harry smiles suggestively. He ruins it by yawning.

“Happy I could assist, but now can we stop talking about your ex. Remember, I’m the editor of a fashion magazine,” Louis says, reminding Harry of what his job is.

“And?” Harry obviously doesn’t get the connection.

“The name Sergio Florenza doesn’t ring any bells right now, but because of my job still there’s a possibility our paths could cross. So let’s just say I really don’t need to hear more about him,” Louis can’t keep the thread of vindictiveness out of his voice. As things stand right now there’s no way he’d work with Harry’s asshole of an ex.

“We can definitely stop talking about Serge, but first I guess what I’ve been trying to say is you’re nothing like him. I thought you were when you showed up late on Fizzy’s first day. Then you were in such a rush to leave and the next time you stepped foot in the bakery you’re dressed like a rich movie star. You made it easy for me to make the comparisons, but if I’m honest, I wanted you to be like Serge so I’d have an excuse to deny my attraction to you. I was wrong and I’m sorry. That’s the real reason I came here tonight. I just needed to tell you that to your face. The Fizzy stuff was just an excuse to get me in the door.”

Harry takes a relieved breath and Louis slides down in the bed to stare at the ceiling while he comes up with an adequate response. It’s a lot to absorb. He could go the righteously offended route, make Harry pay with a shitload of guilt for the way he treated him. He could kick the remorseful baker out and never talk to him again.

Or he could just let it go. “It’d be kind of hypocritical if I held it against you after tonight,” Louis takes the high road.

“Are you sure? I was really awful to you,” Harry moves down to lie on his side and prop up on an elbow, looking at Louis with haunted eyes.

He looks so honestly adorable that Louis stops resisting the urge to touch the silky curls. “I’m sure,” he twists a long swatch of hair around his finger before tugging on it.

Harry hums his pleasure. “Thanks,” he mumbles, before making a soft request. “Now you tell me about yours.”

“My what?” Louis looks at Harry with a puzzled frown on his face.

“The person who broke your heart. You said we’ve all been down that road before. I assumed that meant someone broke your heart."

“Oh,” Louis untwists his finger from Harry’s hair and he rests his hand on his stomach. The question about his past was the last thing he expected.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it,” Harry tells him when the silence stretches out too long.

“No, I don’t mind, it’s just that there’s more than one person,” Louis divulges the information, but he’s still unsure of just how much he wants to reveal.

He starts talking anyway.

“Let’s see, when I thirteen I told my best friend, Tara, that I was gay. She rewarded my trust by not talking to me anymore. If that wasn’t enough she told one of our mutual friends who told another friend, and in no time almost the entire school knew. I found out later Tara was angry because she thought we were more than friends. After a few months she apologized and wanted to be friends again, but it didn’t quite make up for the betrayal. Maybe a different kind of heartbreak, but a heartbreak all the same, yeah?”

“I’ve always had support from my family and friends. I was lucky, and I hate it when I hear stories like yours. You wouldn’t believe the number of kids that's been in the program for the same reason. Acting out just because they couldn't find acceptance,” Harry says sympathetically. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Not your fault is it?”

Louis didn’t mean to sound so brittle, but even if he wanted to, it’s too late to take the words back. Harry just sounded too much like he imagines program director Harry sounds, and although Louis may have appreciated someone like that in his life at the time, right now he doesn’t want to be in bed with that person.

“Then there was Kyle Mortgenson, my first boyfriend,” Louis speaks in a much less acerbic tone. “We never made it past the kissing stage because his family moved to Chicago a month after he asked me to be his boyfriend. I think I was more heartbroken over what we never got to be, than actually losing him, but to fifteen year old me it still seemed like the end of the world.”

“Did you stay in touch with him?” Harry sounds pensive, like he’s afraid Louis might snap at him again.

Louis wants to kick himself. “We tried, but after a couple of weeks I didn’t see the point anymore, so I started ignoring his calls and texts. He gave up after a while.”

“We react to being hurt in different ways,” Harry the program director speaks again, but this time Louis lets it slide. He accepts that it’s probably ingrained in Harry to want to make people feel better.

“It was pretty much had a dry spell after that. I didn’t get seriously involved with again anybody else until I met Luke Malak at the ripe old age of seventeen,” Louis says dryly. “He was nine years older than me, and the first person I slept with. I think it made me romanticize our relationship, when in reality it was inappropriate. Not only because of his age, but because he was my supervisor at work too. It was even more tragic because Luke was in the closet, and for almost two years I helped him hide who he was. To the world we were roommates out of convenience and I did what it took to make it believable. He rewarded my loyalty by sleeping with one of the guys I ate lunch with on the regular. Turned out to be a pattern with Luke, he was just a little more serious with me than the rest of the boys he took advantage of. Last I heard of him he got fired over a sexual harassment charge and he was still in the closet. So lucky escape, I guess.”

Louis leaves out how he wanted to give up right after finding Luke in their bed with one of their coworkers. How he almost didn’t graduate college because he didn’t have a place to stay or a job. Louis couldn’t go back to working with Luke or the person who had been laughing in his face and sleeping with his boyfriend behind his back. He’s not willing to share how Jay stepped in and let him come back home until he could save the money to find another apartment. And how he had a ninety minute commute to school and back every day. It was shitty to have to do, especially on the days he only had one class, but looking back on it now, Louis can see it was worth it. If Luke had never broke his heart who knows if he ever would’ve ever repaired his relationship with Jay, and as close as they are now, it’s hard to believe how distant they used to be.

“You guess it was a lucky escape? How can you be so glib about something so fucked up?” Harry keeps staring straight ahead, but Louis can see the deep frown on his face.

“When you go from being devastated in one breath and in the next thankful for getting out when you did, the sting kind of wears off,” Louis says honestly. He got over Luke a long time ago. There’s nothing there. He actually feels kind of sorry for his ex now.

“Anyone else after the Luke person?” Harry asks.

“Not even close and there never will be,” Louis assures Harry, but he’s lying. There is another heartbreak. One more personal and painful than all the rest, but he's never trusted that information with anyone else besides his mom. He’s not about to break that record with Harry Styles. “I’ll never give anyone that kind of power over me again,” Louis vows firmly, but he doesn’t know if he’s warning Harry or himself.

“Okay,” is all Harry responds with.

“Okay?” Louis isn’t sure what he was expecting, but that wasn’t it. “That’s it.”

“I get it, Louis. We don’t have to talk about it anymore if you don’t want to,” Harry explains, giving nothing away with his expression.

Louis really would like to know what Harry’s thinking, but he’s too mentally and physically exhausted to keep this up. “I think I am done,” he moves around in order to get into a comfortable position. “Don’t let it go to your head, but it’s been awhile. Seven moths to be exact and you kind of wore me out,” he adds when he’s on his side with his hands folded under his head. Unexpected company’s not about to stop him from assuming his favorite position for sleep. “Besides, don’t bakers have to get up at an unthinkable hour?”

“You want me to stay?” Harry asks, looking hopeful. And unsure.

The uncomfortable feeling settles in the pit of Louis’ stomach again. Something about Harry Styles puts him on edge, but still he ignores the side of his brain telling him this is a bad idea. “I was hoping we’d have hot and stinky early morning sex, but if you don’t want to stay,” Louis’s voice fades and he allows Harry to make his own decision.

“I want to. It’s just...,” Harry starts, but Louis places a finger over his mouth.

“I’m not him, Harry. I like the way you smell,” Louis scoots over to Harry to sniff his neck. “Like berries and sweat, but even if you smelled like unbaked croissants and vanilla from Madagascar, I’d still want you to stay,” his voice lowers sensually on the last few words and he can’t resist the temptation to taste the smooth skin over Harry’s pulse any longer.

“So early morning sex, huh?” Harry slides his hand up the outside of Louis’ thigh before palming a butt cheek to pull him closer. He arches his neck when Louis moves to the mole just under his chin. “You do know for me, early morning is only a few hours from now?” he moans when Louis bites him.

“All night sex it is,” Louis leaves a trail of hot kisses over Harry’s neck and chin and he doesn’t stop until he’s licking into his mouth.

Harry moans raunchily into the kiss. He kneads Louis’ bottom with equal ferocity.

Again Louis blames the fact that he went without sex so long for the reason he’s worked up again so fast. It’s the only feasible explanation and he goes with it as Harry kisses down his chest, leaving a trail of tingling heat.

Louis’ stomach caves in when Harry covers it with lazy flicks of his tongue and it expands when Harry wraps his hand already painfully hard erection. It caves again when Harry takes the leaking head inside his mouth. The sensation of Harry’s hair grazing over his stomach and hips is almost as powerful as the heat crawling over his skin from the silken feel of Harry’s mouth moving over him.

“Harry,” Louis moans the name at the same time his hips jerk.

“Do you know how long I’ve been fantasizing about doing this to you?” Harry pulls off just long enough to ask the question.

“No clue,” Louis forces the words out and he grips the sheets when Harry dips and swirls his tongue right in the slit of his cock. 

“Since you looked at me across my desk and asked me where had I been all your life,” Harry informs Louis before taking him deeper into his mouth.

Louis has to really struggle to form the thought that leads to his tortured response. “I'm pretty sure that’s not what I said,” he grips the sheets tighter when Harry licks wet a path from his balls back to the engorged head of his cock.

“Pretty sure it’s what you meant,” Harry assures Louis, then goes down on his entire length.

When Harry begins to blow Louis like his life depends on it, Louis is almost convinced that’s what he meant too.

ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ

“You didn’t have to do this,” Harry takes the steaming cup of tea Louis holds out to him. He moves in close, reaching around Louis to sit the cup down before pinning him against the counter.

The soft light in the kitchen only adds to the intimacy of their position and Louis reaches up to brush an imaginary piece of lint off Harry’s shirt. “I wanted to. We can’t have you dozing while you’re driving.

Louis fixed the tea while Harry was getting dressed, grateful to Fizz for adding the lidded insulated cups to his grocery list. At three fifteen in the morning and with an almost twenty minute drive Louis didn’t want to take any chances. Harry would've had to leave even earlier if he hadn’t already showered and if he didn't keep an extra pair of his work shoes in his office.

“I’ve survived on a lot less than three hours of sleep, and for much less worthy reasons.” If possible Harry’s voice deepens even more and he presses harder into Louis. He lowers his head with purpose and Louis eagerly opens his mouth.

Kissing Harry is the last thing he should want to be doing. They’ve kissed at least two dozen times already, but fuck if he doesn’t want this one just as much as he did the first one. Make that every single kiss.

“I really have to go,” Harry groans when they pull apart, and when he grabs the tea from the counter Louis reluctantly follows him out of the kitchen. He's just plain not ready for the night to end.

When Harry opens the door to the condo about a minute later, Louis leans on the doorframe, wrapping his arms around his waist to keep from wrapping them around the person standing awkwardly in front of him on the small porch.

“Thanks for the tea. And everything,” Harry tells him with a shy smile and rosy cheeks.

“You’re welcome,” Louis feels just as happy bashful. His ears and the back of his neck feel really hot. “For the tea. And everything.”

“Bye, I guess?” Harry says without moving.

“Bye, Harry,” Louis responds softly, lifting off the frame.

Harry stops him just before he closes the door. “I really came here to talk tonight. I didn’t come here for...you know.”

“But aren’t you glad you’re leaving with...you know?” Louis bites down on his bottom lip to keep from smiling, but still somehow manages to.

“Yeah, I am,” Harry smiles back then he waves before bouncing down the steps.

Louis is still smiling and taking full credit for Harry's happy stride after he locks the door.

He walks into his living room and flounces down on the sofa. With Harry gone his bedroom seems too far away to even make the effort. He can’t remember the last time he’s been so bone tired and achy from sex. Not even when he was having it regularly. He only hopes it won’t be seven months before he partakes again, but if for some reason it is, the little tryst with Harry should tide him over nicely.

“Quite nicely,” Louis sighs contentedly before changing positions to lay down.

ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ

Seventeen hours later the content feeling is a distant memory. The assertive and confident fashion editor is only a memory too. In his place is a stranger who’s sat in the same spot for the last few hours checking his phone for missed calls or messages.

“Fuck!” Louis growls into the throw pillow for the third time. What is his life right now? What the fuck did Harry Styles do to him?

If anything he should be asleep right now since he’s only had about six hours total since the unexpected visit last night. Instead here he is having a mini melt down because he hasn’t heard from Harry all day. Or maybe it’s because he wants to hear from Harry. Or is that the same fucking thing?

“Noooo,” Louis moans then moves the pillow off of his face because he needs air.

What makes him so special anyway?

Harry’s no different from the other men Louis wouldn’t hesitate to call if he wanted to _see_ them again. Okay, so maybe there haven’t been that many (Louis can count them on four fingers), but the fact remains, he would have made the call if he had wanted to. He definitely wouldn’t be making up excuses why he shouldn’t.

So what’s different now? 

Nothing that’s what. Nothing except for the tiny fact that Louis is scared Harry might not want to hear from him. Maybe he didn’t see last night as anything other than a one time thing. Even worse, Louis also can’t let go of the nagging fear that Harry might have been waiting for him to make the first move. What if Harry's the one thinking Louis isn’t interested in seeing him again?

The thought is just as distressing as it was the first time Louis thought it. The only difference this time is he doesn’t dismiss it so fast. This time he picks his cell phone up to make the call he maybe should’ve made hours ago. Except he remembers the bakery closed over an hour ago when he goes to search for the saved number.

That leaves Harry’s cell phone, but Louis has no idea what he did with the sheet of paper Harry gave him with all his information on it. He doesn’t even remember if he removed it from his car. He was so upset that day it’s a wonder he didn't throw it away.

He could always go to his car to look for the form. The only problem with that is he’s sat on the sofa all day and now he can’t muster up the energy to drag himself to the door, never mind making it all the way to his car. Being a spineless idiot has absolutely nothing to do with it. If he had the paper with Harry’s number on it in his hand he’d use it.

“I would,” Louis mumbles, unconvincingly. He's pleased no one’s around to call him on it.

Then again, maybe if he had some type of sustenance there'd be no need for someone point out the fact that he’s a coward. Actually, a couple of slices of pizza would probably give him the strength he needs to search out the missing paper with Harry’s information on it.

“Brilliant,” Louis pumps himself up before scrolling through his phone for his favorite pizza delivery and two minutes later the deed is done. Two seconds after that Louis realizes the downside to being a coward is having twenty five minutes to wait before his food arrives.

Logically he could use the extra time to make a quick run to his car, but this is not a time for logic. Especially when he could illogically grab a glass of wine or two.

"That's the ticket," Louis sighs, pumped.

Despite the enthusiasm Louis is still sitting down a few minutes later. Only the thought of the sweet bitterness sliding down his throat is the incentive he needs to get up and make his way to the kitchen.

Louis frowns when he opens the refrigerator because he's not a fan of opened wine, but he’s about makes an exception. There’s too much left in the bottle from last night to pour down the drain.

Without the need for the wine opener Louis pulls the cork from the bottle with ease. He goes for the big glass because the sooner he finishes this bottle the sooner he can open a new one.

The doorbell rings right after he takes his first swallow.

“That was fast,” Louis takes another quick swallow before wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

There’s no way twenty five minutes have passed. Fifteen minutes would be stretching it, but Louis grabs his wallet from the counter before leaving the kitchen. He pulls a twenty dollar bill out to give to the delivery person planning on telling him or her to keep the change, but when he opens the door his intentions go to pot. Suddenly about a hundred quick thoughts are fighting to be the loudest in his head and all of them have something to do with the person standing in front of him.

“You again,” Louis breathes, unaware of how his words sound.

Harry’s smile falters. Actually, it literally fades along with the light in his eyes. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” Louis is emphatic as he grabs Harry’s wrist to pull him inside. “Definitely not,” he closes the door without letting go of his hold on the baker, but getting Harry in the condo turns out to be the easy part. The hard part is actually thinking of something to say to him once they’re facing each other.

“The bakery was a zoo today. We had to stay open late,” Harry speaks first, holding Louis still with soulful eyes.

“Is that why you didn’t call?” Louis replies without thinking. It just slips out and he clamps down on his teeth to keep from moaning out of embarrassment.

“Did you want me to?” Harry asks, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“I…,” Louis stops to give his answer some thought this time. Maybe he shouldn’t so quick to give too much away. Or maybe he should. With Harry in his apartment his confidence is quickly leveling up again. “Yeah, I did,” he grips Harry’s wrist just a little tighter to pull him closer. "Of course I did."

“You know it works both ways, you could’ve called me. Then I wouldn’t have had to risk a speeding ticket getting here,” Harry looks like he has no problem making the revealing admission or invading Louis’ space.

“Didn’t want to appear desperate,” Louis smiles coyly. “Looks much better on you.”

“Are you calling me desperate?” Harry slides his free hand up Louis’ arm and over his shoulder. He cups the back of Louis’ neck at the same time he lowers his head for a light kiss.

“Aren’t you?” Louis breathes into Harry’s mouth, and it sort of feels like desperation when Harry tightens his grip on Louis’ neck. It definitely feels like desperation when he begins devouring Louis’ mouth.

Louis finally let’s go of Harry’s wrist to latch onto his hips and he twists his head to give to gain more traction. His head is buzzing and he can’t get enough. Harry Styles is a fucking good kisser.

“Not yet,” Louis moves to initiate another kiss when Harry pulls away.

“Your doorbell,” Harry grabs Louis’ arms to hold him back, but Louis can’t make sense of the words. It would probably help if his eyes weren’t still shut.

“What?” Louis opens his eyes to find an amused look on Harry’s face.

“Your doorbell,” Harry repeats, nodding toward the door.

“Are you sure? I didn’t hear anything,” Louis says, positive Harry's mistaken.

Harry’s amused look turns into a full-fledged smugness. His eyes get involved when the doorbell answers for him.

“Oh,” Louis steps back, finally sobering up enough to remember the pizza, but he has no idea what happened to his wallet or the twenty dollars.

“Looking for this,” Harry squats down and comes back up with the missing items.

“Yeah, thanks,” Louis takes the money the moves to open the door with a forced smile. “Hi,” he smiles at the bearded man holding the pizza he ordered.

“I have a large pepperoni with extra cheese for a Louis Tomlinson,” the delivery man reads the order slip before looking expectantly at Louis.

“I’m him.”

“That’ll be thirteen ninety nine.”

“Thanks, and keep the change,” Louis holds out the money before grabbing the red and green box. He bids the person goodnight before closing the door and turning back to Harry. “Care for pizza?” he asks, really hoping the answer is no.

“No thanks,” Harry gives him his wish, watching Louis with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Good, me either,” Louis sits the pizza on the table in his entryway. Then he steps up to Harry ready to take up where they left off.

“Wait,” Harry stops Louis from wrapping his arms around his neck, and he holds his arms in between them. “I came here straight from the bakery.”

“I don’t care, Harry, and you smell lovely,” Louis is almost sure of it. He was too occupied before to notice, but now if he could sniff Harry he’d prove it. That’s if he could pry his arms free from Harry’s tight hold.

“No, I mean I didn’t come here to have sex. I want to talk to you,” Harry looks like he’s begging for understanding.

That look is the only reason Louis doesn’t point out that they could’ve talked on the phone. “What are we talking about this time?” he can’t keep the displeasure out of his voice though.

“I don’t know,” Harry begins, not helping his cause. “I haven’t been able to think about anything, but you all day. Fuck, I haven’t had a clear thought since the first time I looked in your eyes. I like you, Louis, and I really want to get to know you. I want you to get to know me too. I think we should go out and just spend time together. I know we didn’t start out the conventional way, but it’s not too late to try, is it?” Harry deflates with a deep inhale and exhale. “I really think we might have something here.”

“How do you know that after one night?” Louis asks cynically. He’s never believed in love at first sight. He really hopes Harry doesn’t either.

“Has it been just one night for you? Not for me it hasn't. I wanted you long before you stepped foot inside the bakery, Louis."

"What?" Louis frowns, confused.

"Before we met Liam had been telling me about you for months."

Now Louis understands. Obviously Liam didn't push Harry on him as hard, but he did bring the baker up an awful lot. Louis realizes he was just too preoccupied to recognize Liam's attempt at matchmaking.

"I didn't want to hear it because I didn't believe anybody could be as perfect as he said you were. Especially after finding out what you did for a living. Definitely not after my last relationship, but despite all of that I continued to let Liam fill my head with your good attributes. Then I met you and you turned out to be everything he described, but I still spent weeks being an idiot, trying to avoid the inevitable.”

“Do you really believe that? I mean do you really think this was inevitable?” Louis nervously thinks in the context Harry’s using it, inevitable sounds an awful lot like love at first sight.

“I don’t know, but I do know I want more than a one night stand. I think you feel the same way.”

Harry’s eyes are clouded with pleading and hope, and something Louis hasn’t allowed himself to want in a long time. He’s not so sure if he wants it now. “Maybe,” he hedges.

“Are you seeing someone? Is there anybody?” Harry bites his lip, watching Louis closely.

“Don't you think it’s a lot late to ask that?” Louis responds starchily, shocked and offended by the question. To prove it he jerks his arms from Harry’s grip. “I’m not that kind of person. Last night was the first time in a very long time for me. I thought I made that clear.”

“I had to ask,” Harry says warily, but Louis disagrees. The question was stupid. After last night it was insulting too.

“Did you?” 

Harry looks upset by the acerbic question. “Fuck, Louis, you’re so stunning. Do you even realize it? It’s hard for me to believe you’re single.”

“That’s a classic example reaching. Plus, I could say the same about you,” Louis says dryly. “I’m single by choice. You of all people should understand that concept. By the way when did looks become criteria for being single. Or for being in a relationship?”

“I’m sorry. I think I just needed a reason for you not to want this as much as I do,” Harry confesses, but the look on Louis’ face shows he’s not appeased. “Have I ruined it?”

Louis really wants to say there isn’t anything to ruin, but when it comes to Harry his mouth seems determined to overrule his brain. “Not yet,” he sighs.

“You’ll still go out with me?” Harry asks hopefully, eyes lighting up.

“It appears that I will,” Louis yields tartly, still a little upset.

Harry seems to interpret that as a sign of all systems go. “I have next weekend off. If you’re free I’d like to take you to dinner Friday night.”

“Actually I can’t do Friday, but Saturday sounds good,” Louis is being a little dishonest. He only has a half work day on Friday. That gives him more than enough time to get ready for a date, but he needs to establish some semblance of control in this.

“It’s a date,” Harry says with enthusiasm Louis doesn’t feel.

He’s close, but not quite there yet. He’s not at all opposed to the dating thing, but for him it’s not that simple. Not with Fizzy living with him, and needing him. “Hold your horses, okay. I need to make some things clear before we so much as walk out of the door together.”

“What things?” Harry looks alarmed, and Louis hurries to explain. Alarming Harry wasn’t his intention.

“I’ll go on one date with you. Just to see how it goes,” he takes a step back. He needs to breathe and he can’t do it with Harry sucking up half of his oxygen. “Don’t forget until last night you couldn’t stand the sight of me?”

“You know that’s not true, but fine by me if you want to start out with one date,” Harry moves and erases all the space Louis created. “What’s your second condition?” he wraps his arm around Louis waist to draw him closer.

Louis goes willingly. “I’m not your ex, and I don’t want to constantly be compared to him. I’m me, Harry. I fuck up sometimes, and if this thing between us is more than just good sex I’m sure I’ll do something to hurt you or make you angry, but it’ll be me fucking up, not your ex. I’m not a knight in shining armor, and I don’t want to be. So don’t expect me to fix every despicable thing he did to you because I can’t.”

“It sounds so simple when you say it,” Harry sighs, frowning. “What if I promise to try? Is that enough for now?”

“For now,” Louis concedes because they might not make it past the one date. Although he’s honest enough to admit that he really hopes they do.

“Anything else?” Harry sounds optimistic, but cautious.

Louis is feeling something similar, but he still has one more condition. “I’m sorry, but we can’t tell anyone. It has to stay a secret between us. Doesn’t matter if we go on one date or twenty. I need Fizzy to know I’m one hundred percent here for her. I honestly don’t know how she’d react to this and I can’t risk setting her back. She’s come such a long way, but...,” he keeps his eyes glued to Harry’s chest as he searches for the right words. “She’s my priority right now. Not this. It can’t be.”

“Is there an expiration date on this condition?” Harry’s more subdued than he’s been since he walked in the condo.

“Of course there is. I’ve only had about five minutes to think about it so I don’t really know when, but definitely not until Fizzy's time in your program ends,” Louis makes the best offer he can under the circumstances.

“I can live with that. Actually, I agree with you,” Harry surprises Louis and his eyes show it when he meets Harry’s gaze. “Makes it easier to avoid bad feelings among the kids, and I definitely wouldn’t want to be accused of favoritism.”

“Or my sister thinking she should have her way if her brother’s dating the boss,” Louis hints at the miniscule possibility.

“I don’t think Fizzy would do that, but yeah, I get what you mean,” Harry agrees then slowly grazes his fingertips up Louis arm and over his shoulder. “Third condition met?” he cups the back of Louis head again, at the same time lowering his.

“All conditions met,” Louis smiles against Harry’s lips and for a minute he just stands. Not moving, just enjoying the weight of Harry’s mouth against his and the feel of his own teeth bruising the inside of his lips.

Harry’s not so patient. He puts pressure on the back of Louis’s head and slides his tongue over Louis’ mouth.

Louis gives in with blinding enthusiasm, linking his arms around Harry’s waist and tilting his head for more traction. He gives his all to the kiss, matching Harry lick for lick; bite for bite.

This is Louis' comfort zone. Kissing that leads to sex he does much better than planning dates, and everything would be splendid if Harry didn’t keep pulling back way too soon.

“You keep fucking doing that,” Louis complains, breathing heavy.

“If we don’t stop you know where we’ll end up,” Harry rests his forehead against Louis’ while he gets control of his own breathing.

“Isn’t that how these things usually go?” Louis slides out of Harry’s arms, wondering if he blocked out a part of their conversation.

“Remember, we’re doing this conventional way from now on,” Harry sounds regretful, but firm. “Dating first, sex later.”

“How much later?” Louis is positive now he missed this part of the conversation. Or Harry’s only bringing it up now.

“Until we can’t wait any longer,” Harry’s eyes darken and Louis’ pulse speeds up. “Just imagine how good it’ll be if we wait.”

“I prefer to remember how good it was last night. And this morning,” Louis would be lying if he said he’s not a little turned on at thought of waiting. He’s just more turned on by the thought of not waiting.

“You’re making this really hard,” Harry groans pitifully.

Louis knows he’s won. There wasn’t an ounce of conviction in Harry’s words, but first Louis has a little teasing to do. “You did not just say that,” he dissolves into fit of laughter at the look on Harry’s face when he finally gets it.

“It’s true, I am hard. All your fault,” Harry moves toward Louis with purpose in every step and a little debauchery in his eyes.

Louis realizes he's very much a fan of debauchery.

“I guess convention's not everything,” Harry jerks Louis to him, immediately sliding his hands to the swell of Louis’ bottom.

Louis is beginning to think Harry has a thing for his ass. “You know, if we share the pizza we could count it as a first date. I’ll even light candles,” he moans when Harry bites his neck. He isn’t sure if he even owns any candles, but in this instance he’s it’s the sentiment that counts.

“Okay, but you’ll owe me another date,” Harry mumbles arrogantly against the skin under Louis’ ear. “Just so we understand each other that means two more dates.”

Louis quickly pardons the bit of smugness. He’s feeling generous and very turned on as he moves his arms to wrap them around Harry’s neck. “Yes, but look at the tradeoff. Definitely worth two more dates."

ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ

Almost three weeks later Louis is pouring over headshots of models for an upcoming spread in the magazine. His face is mask of consternation as he lifts up one picture only to put down for another one.

For the spread Louis needs five models, three male and two female, and he already has three pictures set to the side. Those were easy choices because he's familiar with their work. Choosing the final two models hasn’t been so easy, and Louis sighs after he puts the picture at the bottom of the stack.

They’re all extremely good looking so that’s not the problem. Most of the time it never is with Louis. Sometimes it’s something as simple as hair or eye color. Maybe body type or something minor like classic versus conventional facial structure. This time it’s a matter of cohesion. In terms of looks he’s looking for different, but not in a way where one models looks might detract from any of the other models. Or the clothes. It’s vital that the clothes be the focus.

“Hey, Louis, do you want to try one of these?”

“No,” Louis doesn’t bother to look up at his assistant, Leah.

Although he keeps his office doors open most of the time, no one bothers him unless it’s absolutely necessary. His personal assistant included. Leah of all people realizes how important the upcoming spread is.

Whitman Wyatt is the unisex fashion designer du jour and he’s on the cusp of superstardom in the fashion industry. Louis has yet to see an article where the designer doesn’t have words like trendsetter or genious attached to his name, and the fact that he chose _Modern Man_ to give a sneak peak of his upcoming fall collection is nothing to sniff at. It’s actually put the magazine in an envied position.

Normally Louis wouldn't have the task of choosing the models for this type of spread. Designers almost always have their own go to models, but Whitman Wyatt gave the magazine carte blanche. Except for the clothes, _Modern Man_ is in charge of the entire article and photoshoot.

“Are you sure?” Leah asks again, emphasizing every word.

“Yes, Leah, I’m sure, but you can get me another set of headshots. I think I'm done with these,” Louis looks up only to spare his assistant an irritated glance, but his eyes get stuck on the cupcake she’s holding in her hand. “Where did you get that from?”

Louis would know that cupcake anywhere. He’s had enough of the small treats over the last few weeks to consider himself a connoisseur.

Leah licks some of frosting off of her fingers before answering. “This really sweet guy delivered enough for the entire office. He said his name was Harry, and gosh was he cute,” she responds innocently before taking a bite of the cupcake. “This is amazing,” she adds, uncaring of the crumbs falling onto the Ralph Lauren sleeveless suede tank. “Are you sure you don’t want one?”

“Where's Harry?” Louis already knows how good the cupcakes are.

“I told him you couldn’t be disturbed so he left,” Leah says nonchalantly, with a mouth full of cupcake. “He was a bit disappointed, but he took it in stride,” she shrugs and puckers her perfectly arched eyebrows. “Did I already say how gorg he was? By the way, how do you know him, Louis?”

“Where is he, Leah?” Louis demands, ignoring the silly questions. “And you’re fired if you really sent him away.

Leah gasps and places a hand over her heart. “That was way rude and I’m way offended.”

“No you aren’t, now where is he?”

It’s not a question. It’s a demand and Louis is wondering how hard would it really be to replace his assistant. So what if she’s been working with him his entire time as editor. Or that on most days he considers her his right hand.

“Do you mean this Harry?” Leah reaches out to pull in one of the new interns.

Whose name just happens to be Harry.

“You’ve really put an effort into this,” Louis tries not to smile, he really should've seen it coming. Leah’s sense of humor is one of the reasons he loves her, but give her an inch and she’ll take your paycheck.

She's pretty too. Her pixyish looks and platinum blonde hair has turned more than a few heads, but Louis thinks Leah's honey brown eyes are her best feature. Harry the intern wouldn't be the first person to fall under their spell.

“So, not this Harry then?” Leah looks confused.

Louis wants to strangle her.

“Sorry, Louis,” Harry the intern apologizes and he keeps looking nervously behind him.

Louis assumes that means the only Harry he’s interested in right now is probably somewhere in the corridor outside his office.

“What are you apologizing for, Harry?” Leah heavily stresses the name. “I mean, until today you were the only _Harry_ in the office,” she raises one of her eyebrows. “How were we to know that one day we’d be blessed with the presence of another Harry who says he owns the bakery these delightful treats came from? Maybe we should’ve been paying more attention to all those secretive smiles and far away looks our boss has displaying.”

Louis pretends he didn’t hear a word Leah said, he addresses Harry the intern instead. “No problem, Harry. I know how persuasive Leah can be. She probably threatened you with bathroom duty, but for future reference we have a cleaning service to come in and do that.”

Louis misses Leah’s telling smirk because Harry the intern is doing something weird with his eyes now. It looks like he keeps repeating a half eye roll, and Louis has to work hard to keep from laughing out loud.

“Yes, sir,” Harry the intern says, still with the eye thing going on.

Louis takes it as another poorly executed indication of Harry being somewhere in the vicinity, but he can’t decide if the intern is being loyal or just trying to score points.

Louis likes him so either option is okay with him.

“Okay, that’s it, I’m not having fun anymore. Harry you can go back to work, and no you don't have to empty all the trash bins in the office,” Leah gives the orders before sighing dramatically. “As for me, I think I’ll have another of these if they haven't all disappeared,” she holds up the crumpled cupcake paper. "Oh, and Harry the bakery owner, you can come in now."

Louis stays quiet while the intern slinks by Leah on his way out of the office, but he lifts his eyebrows when his assistant grabs his Harry by the arm after he steps inside.

“Thanks for playing along, you were a real sport,” Leah tells him, sounding genuine.

“All I had to do was wait outside,” Harry responds before looking at Louis.

“You better save me half of whatever’s in that box,” Leah tells Louis, nodding to indicate the pastry box Harry has in his hand.

Louis shrugs and looks pointedly at the door. Unsurprisingly, Leah ignores him. Instead she gives Harry a onceover before wiggling her eyebrows at Louis. She finally leaves when she gets no response, but only after giving Louis a thumbs up behind Harry's back.

“I hope this is okay,” Harry’s the first one to speak.

“For what? Being in on the prank or for the surprise visit?”

“Both, I guess,” Harry sounds like he only ever considered one of the possibilities.

Louis has a couple questions before he alleviates Harry’s concerns. “How did you find my office? We've only ever discussed the area it's in.”

“Fizzy’s file and my navigation system,” Harry looks embarrassed.

Louis is flattered. “And how did you know the right number of cupcakes to bring?” he draws it out a little longer.

“You told me, remember? Nineteen full time employees, seven part timers, and three interns,” Harry reminds Louis of that first night in his apartment.

“That’s some memory you have there, Styles,” Louis gets up from his desk to walk around it and lean up against the front of it. He thought Harry might take as a hint for him to come closer, but Louis is disappointed when Harry's feet don't even twitch.

“I remember everything you say,” Harry admits quietly.

“I remember some of the things you’ve said,” Louis informs Harry, almost smiling. “Mostly the important stuff,” he adds.

“Like what?” Harry asks, still looking unsure.

“So,” Louis says succinctly, ready to do more than just alleviate Harry's worry over the surprise visit.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Harry sounds not pleased.

“Take a minute to think about it,” Louis tells him, and he watches until it's apparent Harry has no idea what he's referring to. "I seem to recall you once telling me to say so if I wanted a kiss."

“Now?” Harry asks, eyes lit with the memory.

“So,” Louis repeats himself, but more emphatically this time.

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

“I’m in charge. Trust me, I won’t be penalized for a small kiss,” Louis says sardonically. “Come here, Harry. You came all this way to see me and I think you should reward me,” he orders. He thinks since he’s doing all the work for a little kiss, Harry should be the one to move for it.

“Don’t you mean you should reward me?” Harry asks, finally sounding less pensive, but still not moving.

Louis takes matters into his own hands. “No, and now I'm demanding that you reward me,” he sighs before walking over to Harry and grabbing his face.

“I guess you’re the boss,” Harry only just gets the words out before Louis licks across his bottom before drawing it into his mouth.

Harry wraps his free arm around Louis’ waist to draw him closer and he opens his mouth to let Louis’ insistent tongue in. Louis revels in the kiss. The way Harry has to bend, the way he takes his time. Even the way their noses bump against each other's when Harry moves his head. Louis loves all of it and he has to work to keep the passion at bay.

The probability of them being interrupted is highly unlikely, but he is at work and that’s something he's mindful of. Having his private life open for inspection is not something he’s exactly comfortable with either. Still, he lets the kiss go on for a little longer, loving the way Harry’s grip on his waist tightens before he takes the kiss from gentle to demanding.

Louis only pulls back when one particularly hot swipe of Harry’s tongue causes more than butterflies in the pit of his stomach. “Hi,” he breathes, thankful that his dick only twitched the one time.

“Hi,” Harry grins, looking a little affected himself.

"You've probably spoiled my staff. They'll want those cupcakes from now on," Louis admonishes Harry fondly.

"I don't mind. If I got to see you, I'd bring treats to your office everyday."

"Which reminds me. What are you doing here?" Louis asks.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Harry divulges, still looking uncomfortable.

“You did,” Louis responds, smiling. “That for me?” he looks down at the box in Harry’s hand.

“Yeah,” Harry gives Louis the box before stepping back to give him the space he needs to open it.

“What is it?” Louis opens the lid to sniff the inside. He takes another more satisfying smell when his mouth waters from the first sniff.

“With all of my added responsibilities, I don’t bake as much as I used to, but when I do I like to experiment,” Harry responds, watching Louis. “The thing you’re about to inhale through your nose is a mini Earl Grey lava cake with a pistachio buttercream frosting and milk chocolate center.”

“Are you experimenting on me?” Louis asks, thinking if the cake tastes as good as it smells he’s more than willing to be experimented on.

“No, those were sold out an hour after we opened. I just wanted you to taste something I made with my own hands,” Harry sounds a little pouty.

“You’re not jealous of the praise I bestow on Beli’s baking prowess, are you?” Louis asks, smiling because a pouty Harry Styles is beautiful and endearing.

“You do go overboard sometimes. With Niall and Lou, too,” Harry responds petulantly, causing Louis to laugh out loud. "Maybe you should have stuck to sitting in your car until Fizzy comes out."

“Tell me again how old you are, and can I help it that your bakers are really good at their jobs? Or that they like feeding me while I wait on Fizz.”

“Are you going to taste the cake anytime soon, Louis?”

“Sorry, I don’t keep flatware in my office, and since I’m not a fan of the eating cake with the fingers thing, I don’t think so,” Louis says regretfully, peeking inside the box again. "Later, though."

“Here,” Harry produces a fork which he holds it out for Louis to take.

“You thought of everything. I really didn’t want to have to go to the break room, but I would have,” Louis grabs the fork and he wastes no time digging into the cake.

“What do you think?” Harry asks before Louis has a chance to swallow his first bite.

Louis has no idea how Earl Grey lava cakes with a pistachio buttercream frosting and milk chocolate centers are supposed to taste, but if it’s anything like the cake in his mouth then it’s nothing short of amazing. Everything about it is delicious.

“If you seriously thought I’d be satisfied with only one of these then you don't know me very well,” Louis admonishes Harry before going in for another fork full of the cake. It’s so incredible he goes back over to his desk to lean up against the front it. He needs the support while he savors every bite.

“It would’ve been better if you had warmed it up first,” Harry sounds pleased despite Louis eating the cake cold.

“It’s perfect as it is,” Louis can’t imagine it tasting better than it already does. Just like he can’t ignore the elephant in the room any longer. Harry hasn’t relaxed yet. Despite the kiss and Louis’ obvious enjoyment of the cake, he’s still standing in the exact same spot.

“You know, this kind of reminds me of the night you used Fizzy as an excuse to come see me at my condo,” Louis says after taking a swallow out of the cup of tepid tea on his desk. 

“How so?” Harry looks guilty.

“For one, we have a date tonight. Our fourth date, remember?” Louis reminds Harry, watching him blush harder.

“Did I tell you how stunning you look today?” Harry changes the subject. “Everyone in your office does. I kind of feel out of place.”

“We work for a fashion magazine and we have to represent that. You work at a bakery. No one expects you to have on Gucci and Valentino,” Louis is describing his own outfit. He knows the blue long sleeved Gucci button down and the Valentino slim fit chinos look good on him, but they’re supposed to. It would be defeating the purpose if they didn’t.

“I don’t want to ever embarrass you,” Harry tells Louis, making him angry.

“When will you realize that I’m not superficial? I’m not your ex, Harry,” Louis is beyond tired of telling Harry that. "Besides no one can hold a candle to you. You're exceptionally handsome, even in your bakery getup you outshine us all, and that's coming from someone who's been looking at some really good looking people all morning.

“I wasn't fishing for compliments, and I’m sorry I keep doing this.”

Louis is tired of hearing Harry apologize for the same thing over and over again, but he has too much on his plate to have that conversation right now. “Why don't you tell me the real reason you’re here,” he says in lieu of not accepting the apology this time.

“What makes you think I have another reason?” Harry asks, obviously hedging.

“Besides the obvious similarities from that night, maybe because you’ve been standing in the same place for more than twenty minutes,” Louis points out.

“Okay, you win that point,” Harry finally moves, if a somewhat stiffly.

“I didn’t know it was a competition, but I’m listening,” Louis says when Harry’s standing in front of him. “Would you like to sit down first?” he points to the two chairs behind Harry and then the plush sofa on the other side of the room.

“No, this is good,” Harry responds, watching Louis pensively. “So, as you said earlier, we’re going on our fourth date tonight.”

“Yes we are. Only because I had to agree to three more before you'd let us eating pizza on dirty sheets at one in the morning count as our first date. Pretty unreasonable if you ask me," Louis kids.

“It was really easy to get you to agree.”

“I'm pretty sure you could get me to agree to anything while you're blowing me.”

“So you're saying I just have to make it worth your while, right?” Harry asks, obviously leading somewhere.

“I guess that's what I'm saying?” Louis says, sounding puzzled.

“Well, on that same line of thinking, I hoped you'd want more of the lava cakes,” Harry takes a deep breath and he smiles nervously when he exhales.

"I do," Louis sighs. He figures Harry wants something from him, the question is what exactly.

"What if I give you more of the cakes and in turn you agree to us becoming exclusive?" Harry finally sheds light on the reason for his visit.

“I thought we already were,” Louis teases, but his heart is beating just a little faster.

“The last few weeks have been amazing, Louis. Our actual dates and the quick lunches. Just getting to know you," Harry's being polite. Their quick lunches could just as easily be called quickies because most of the time it's just rushed sex. They don't eat unless one of them brings something already prepared and that can be scarfed down.

Louis definitely isn't complaining though. Just thinking about their lunch date yesterday makes his breath hitch.

I like everything about you," Harry continues. "How kind and unpretentious you are. How you take such good care of Fizzy. You're so smart and so funny. You're a constant shadow on my thoughts. You're right there, all the time. My friends saw how wonderful you were right from the beginning and I really regret all the time I wasted fighting my feelings for you. I just really, really like you, and I don't want to have to keep coming up with excuses to extend the number of dates we go on.”

"Fuck, Harry. I really like you too. You do know that, don't you?" Louis says beseechingly and once again the uneasy feeling Harry gives him sometimes settles in the pit of his stomach.

"Can you tell me what is it that you like about me?" Harry asks, his expression serious. The exact opposite of Louis'.

"Your looks? I mean most models would kill for your jawline and your eyes are probably the cause of many swoons, me included," Louis teases because he's not ready or prepared to be as candid as Harry was. He also knows he has no choice now that Harry's put him on the spot.

"Louis," Harry warns impatiently.

"Okay," Louis takes a minute to think. It's never been that easy for him to put his feelings into words.

"You're eccentric and I love that about you, Harry. I mean you're a baker who likes designer clothes, you have a quirky sense of humor, and you laugh at your own jokes. What more could I ask for?"

"A lot," Harry pipes in dryly.

Okay, well you're so passionate about the kids in your program, and I love how great you are with every one of them. I like how considerate you are of your friends feelings, and I like even more how you'll drop anything to take a phone call from your mom. I love the sex we have and how you make me feel so wanted. Most of all, I think I like how quiet you are. Sometimes I don't know how to shut down, but it's easy to do with you. Your quietness calms me and I never experienced that until you. Actually, I never knew I needed it until now."

Louis is amazed at his honesty and he takes a deep breath to let it sink in. "Shall I start with the things that I don't like about you now?" he asks, trying to make things not so serious. Because serious is complicated.

"No, you shouldn't, and if all the things you said are true then you shouldn't have a problem with being my boyfriend," Harry says somberly.

“Is that still a thing?” Louis stalls, so nervous he almost feels sick. "Do people really still ask that?"

“Your answer, Louis,” Harry persists, looking hurt enough for Louis to feel awful.

“Kiss me first,” he demands, still stalling. Still very nervous. 

Harry holds him off. “You tell me all the time that you hate ending our phone calls, right?”

"Yes, and you feel the same way," Louis refuses to let Harry put it all on him.

Although, in all honesty he could talk to Harry for hours and still not run out of things to say. Their conversations have an easy flow to them and when they can't see each other the late night phone calls are the best part of Louis' day.

"If you agree to be my boyfriend we can think of it as a never ending phone call. One where we'd never have to hang up," Harry sounds like he thinks he actually made sense.

"Except on the days we don't see each other," Louis mumbles, but he's smiling quite affectionately.

"Is that a yes?" Harry apparently has a one track mind.

Of course it's a yes, but Louis has some serious misgivings. Why is there a need to put a label on their relationship if they're already exclusive? And is dating for three weeks long enough for them to even be having this conversation? Based on feelings alone the answer is a resounding yes, but is that enough of a reason to rush things? Maybe not, but Louis can admit that he wouldn't mind looking at Harry's face everyday if he could.

“It’s a tentative yes because I think we might be moving too fast, but it’s a yes all the same,” Louis squashes his doubts. At least for the moment

Harry smiles a blinding smile as he lowers his head and he moans right before his and Louis' mouths collide.

Louis eagerly engages in the bruising kiss. He needs the distraction. He needs to quieten the part of his brain telling him he made a mistake. He wants this and he wants Harry so he pours his frustration into the kiss. This time he doesn't hold back and the kiss gets passionate lightning fast.

“Louis,” Harry hisses when Louis pushes him away.

“We have to stop,” Louis says remorsefully, but he can't deny himself another quick kiss. “I’m sorry, but I really have to get back to work. Besides, I don’t have anything. Believe it or not I don’t make it a habit of having sex in my office. Not that I'm not tempted right now."

“My boyfriend is a spoilsport,” Harry steps back, but he keeps his arms draped over Louis’ shoulders.

“My boyfriend better have me more of those cakes tonight or we’re breaking up,” Louis threatens, eyes lit with humor and still a little heat.

“You’re so easy, do you know that?” Harry’s confidence is apparently back.

Louis doesn’t mind. “Have you tasted those cakes? I'd marry Niall for just half of another one."

"Hey," Harry frowns, looking just as offended as he sounds.

"You're so easy," Louis smartly uses Harry's words against him. "Now kiss me again, and then I really have to kick you out.

Part Two

Louis is putting on socks when his bedroom door opens and Fizzy steps quietly inside. “Can I come in for a minute?”

"Sure," Louis looks up from his task.

It’s not the first time Fizzy’s opened Louis' bedroom door without knocking, but he's had close to five months to get used to the unpermitted intrusions. It barely registers this time. He thinks if anything, it’s a habit born out of Fizzy babysitting their younger sisters and the need to constantly keep checking up on them.

Louis' throat gets a little tight when he takes a good look at Fizzy. The heavy makeup is gone, and her hair is back to falling in dark waves past her shoulders. The solemn, and angry Fizzy has been nothing but a memory for the past few months. Looking at her now Louis is amazed at how much she's changed.

It’s even harder for him to believe that after today there’s only two weeks left until the completion ceremony. _If Given Chance_ more than lived up to everything Liam said about it, and if Harry would allow it, a long line of Tomlinsons would gather to thank him for helping Fizzy get past whatever caused her to act out.

"I’m almost done,” Louis assumes Fizzy's in his room to let him know she’s ready to head out.

Today is the day of giving back, and _The Happy Banana_ is serving breakfast and lunch at four homeless shelters in the city. The bakery is supplying the food too, and Louis is raring to go despite the early hour. He's ashamed to admit it, but he was kind of indifferent when Harry first mentioned the giving back day. Louis hadn't ever given community service much thought, but now he can’t wait to help out.

Fizzy’s not the only ones who’s changed. Harry's passion for making a difference in other peoples lives had a profound affect on him. So much so that he plans to extend his involvement with the shelters by donating his money and much more of his time after today.

“Mom ready to go?” Louis slides his feet in the black and white checkered Vans before walking over to his closet. "She's so excited for today."

Jay didn't hesitate to volunteer when she learned what they'd be doing today, and it was more convenient for her to stay overnight at Louis' than leave home at two in the morning in order to make it to the bakery by five. Louis was just happy to have the extra time with her.

“Almost, but she's not rushing. I asked her to give us a little time to talk.”

Something in Fizzy's voice causes Louis to stop looking for the jacket he wants to wear. “You okay?” he turns around, looking concerned.

Fizzy plants a lock of hair behind her ear, and shakes her head. “Yeah, I’ve just been wanting to talk to you for a few days, and this is the only chance I have since mom and I are leaving for home right after we're done at the bakery today.

“What do you want to talk about?” Louis moves to sit on his bed then motions for Fizzy to join him.

“Me,” Fizzy sighs dejectedly when she plops down on the bed.

“That’s not a bad thing. Honestly, you're one of my favorite subjects,” Louis says caringly.

“I probably won't be when I tell you what I have to tell you,” Fizzy responds, looking down at her feet.

“You don’t believe that?” Louis demands softly, but Fizzy just gives him a pained look.

“So, there was this boy,” she begins after taking a deep breath.

“Isn't that how it always starts?” Louis jokes, attempting to lighten things up.

Apparently it doesn't work. If anything Fizzy looks even more irritated. "No, Louis, it's not. Stop making the world revolve around men and boys because it doesn't."

Although Louis was only kidding he knows that Fizzy was right to correct him, but more than anything he wants to shout for joy. Only the Fizzy he knows would so quick to point out the sexism in his statement.

"You're right. I shouldn't have said that and I'm sorry, but this time it is about a boy, right?" Louis asks gently.

“You already know, but to be specific, his name is Trevor Johns, and for awhile I thought he was everything. I mean, I should’ve been suspicious that someone as popular as him would be interested in someone like me, but…”

Louis doesn't dispute Fizzy's claim that he already knows, but he can't put a face to the name. It does sound familiar, but that's it. “What do you mean someone like you? Don’t you dare put yourself down, Fizzy,” he's shocked and angry that some jerk made Fizzy doubt how amazing she is. 

“I’m not putting myself down, but I’m not stupid. There aren’t too many boys waiting to date the loudmouthed sophomore who’d drag them for breathing wrong if she found out about it.”

“There’s not a single thing wrong with standing up for your beliefs. More people should be like you, young and old,” Louis says emphatically. It's kind of a bittersweet moment because that's the Fizzy he's mourned for all these months. The girl who wasn't afraid to speak out on social injustices or anything she had an issue with, and to see that she thinks less of herself for it heartbreaking.

“I thought so too until one of the most popular seniors in school asked me out," Fizzy bites her lower lip then winces. "I told him no at first because I was sure it was some kind of prank at my expense. You know like in the movies?”

“I'm familiar with the plot,” Louis says quietly, watching the emotions change on his sister's face.

“I was too, and that's why I told Trevor to go try it with another girl, but he still wouldn’t give up. I tried to ignore him, I really did, but deep down I was flattered. I was kind of star struck that he would actually give me the time of day. I'm sure you can guess that I eventually caved," Fizzy says.

"Yeah," Louis answers, trying to sound understanding.

"He was so sweet to me. Always buying me little gifts and writing me love notes for every week we were together. He even won mom over, but the best thing was how supportive of me he was. At least that’s what he made me believe,” Fizzy’s words are laced with sadness and regret, and Louis can’t help thinking about the shell of a person he was after his breakup with Luke.

“When did it change?”

“When Trevor asked me to have sex with him,” Fizzy admits bluntly, then harshly rubs her face, leaving it red and blotted. “We had been dating for more than two months, but I still knew I wasn’t ready to go that far. Don’t worry, I didn’t give into the pressure,” she insists, correctly interpreting the angry frown on Louis’ face.

So many thoughts are running through Louis’ head, and now he realizes why the name sounded familiar. Trevor or Trev is the boy Fizzy told him she was going out with last year. He just never knew it progressed to something more serious. “What happened when you refused?”

“He stopped talking to me. For almost two weeks he ignored all of my texts and calls,” Fizzy’ voice trembles. "He blocked me on Facebook."

Louis is ready to break something or _someone_. Specifically _someone_ named Trevor.

“At school he treated me like I didn’t exist, but we only saw each other once a day so at least that was bearable,” Fizzy stops, obviously struggling. "I just wanted to fix things."

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Fizz,” Louis grabs her hand, so angry he could spit fire.

“He finally called me and I was so happy,” Fizzy focuses on hers and Louis’ joined hands. “I thought he wanted to work things out, but he didn’t. He just wanted to call me a snotty bitch and tell me that I was going to die a virgin because no one else would ever want someone like me,” she wipes her eyes with her free hand. “He was so gross.”

“I’m so sorry, Fizz,” Louis whispers over his own stinging tears.

“After he finished ranting he said good luck on going back to being a nobody,” Fizzy wipes her eyes again. “That’s when everything started spinning out of control for me. I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare.”

“I can imagine,” Louis has never felt as inclined to violence as he is right now.

“I had all of these crazy feelings and I didn’t know what to do with them. I couldn’t talk to anybody because I was too ashamed that I let someone do that to me. I told mom I broke up with Trevor because I thought he was too old for me and she believed me. So I had to deal with everything on my own, but it was so hard. I hated Trevor for what he did to me, but I still wanted to be with him so much it was tearing me up inside. A month later I was still waiting for the phone call where he would tell me he was wrong and beg for my forgiveness.”

“Come here, please,” Louis requests softly, voice full of compassion. His head full of his own bitter memories. “You did the right thing, and Trevor Johns is a massive dick.”

“You sound like mom, only with more tact,” Fizzy smiles, but it fades when she starts talking again. “I didn’t know how to be me anymore. I didn’t want to be me anymore.”

“There was never anything wrong with you,” Louis argues.

"For a while I thought I should’ve just had sex with him," Fizzy mutters. "I probably would have eventually, but he called me again.”

“What did he want this time?” Louis asks coldly.

“To give me _one more_ chance. He said I should be the one begging him, that I should be grateful he was still interested. I think that’s when I my pride finally took over because I told him I’d rather be a virgin for the rest of my life than have sex with him and then I blocked his number. I blocked him on Facebook too, just like he did me, and I haven’t talked to him since.”

“Do you know how much courage it took to do that?” Louis wraps Fizzy in his arms again. “I’m so proud of you, Fizz.”

“You wouldn’t be if you knew how much I regretted losing him. Or how it almost killed me knowing that I'd probably never see him again since school was out for the summer and he was going to Texas to start college in the fall,” Fizzy confesses against Louis’ shoulder. “That’s when I started drinking. It was the only thing that helped numb everything. The cigarettes and staying out late were just something to do. I know mom thought I was doing something else, but I promise I wasn’t. It would’ve been easy to get, but I just wasn’t interested. I had more creative ways of releasing. Like starting fights with mom or stealing that purse.”

“How did that work out for you?” Louis asks, just shy of chastising.

“Now you sound just like Harry,” Fizzy sits up to repair her mussed hair before pulling it up and quickly wrapping the pink band on her wrist around it.

Louis thinks of another person who keeps his hair piled on top of his head, and how now he has quite a bit of experience watching Harry throw his hair into a haphazard bun just so he can make it to work on time. Because he can never leave his duplex or Louis’ condo without asking for one or ten extra kisses.

“You told him?” Louis asks absently, more focused on the fact that he loves how greedy Harry is. Louis has yet to refuse him a single kiss or anything else. They’re good together that way. Sometimes it amazes him just how good they are together.

“Not as much as I told you, but yeah, he knows,” Fizzy confesses. “Please don’t be upset okay.”

“I’m not upset,” Louis hurries to reassure his sister. “I know there was some tension between Harry and I at first, but that’s all in the past. I respect him so much for what he’s doing with his program.”

“Good, because he wanted me to tell you and mom right after I told him, but I didn’t feel ready to do it then. I only told mom last weekend.”

“Honestly, it’s okay. And I’m happy you trusted Harry enough to confide in him. He really is amazing, isn’t he?”

Louis can’t keep the soft admiration out of his voice and it has nothing to do with the fact that Harry's been his boyfriend for three months and three weeks. The admiration would still be there because Harry Styles is just a damn good person.

Fizzy studies Louis instead of answering right off. “You know it’s okay, don’t you? You can trust me,” she asks finally.

“About what?” Louis frowns in confusion.

“If you and Harry are together or something,” Fizzy keeps her eyes stuck on Louis’ face. “You said it yourself, the tension's gone, and now you even come inside the bakery to wait for me instead of sitting in your car. Harry smiles a lot more now, sometimes for no reason. You do too, and twice you two disappeared at the same time. I don't think anyone besides me noticed. So don't worry.”

“I don’t know where Harry was, but I was probably taking a piss,” Louis lies with a blank face. Honestly, he thinks it’s probably happened more than twice. Blame it on Harry’s inability to keep his hands to himself, but Louis can’t exactly admit that right now.

“I see you looking at him sometimes when you think no one is watching, and I don’t know, but you both are so soft with each other. I know it sounds silly, but that’s the only way I can describe it.”

Louis silently acknowledges it’s nowhere near as silly as Fizzy thinks. Harry keeps him in a perpetual state of wonder and turned on, he just thought he was good at hiding it. Apparently neither of them are, but he can’t tell Fizzy’s she’s right about them. At least not without talking to Harry first. They both agreed to keep their relationship secret until the end of the program, but Louis can easily rectify that tonight. He'll gladly tell Fizzy if Harry agrees.

“I won’t deny it. I’m very attracted to Harry and I’m pretty sure it’s mutual. I think one of us will make the first move eventually,” Louis tries to be as honest as he can under the circumstances. “I promise you’ll be one of the first to know when there’s something more to tell,” he adds sincerely.

“I just wanted you to know that I'd be happy for you. Harry's the best,” Fizzy says sweetly, and Louis goes from feeling justified to feeling guilty for his lack of honesty.

“What about you and Derrick?” he swiftly takes the spotlight off of him. “Can’t help noticing how close you two have gotten.”

“He’s cool. Being with him is easy in a way it never was with Trevor. Still, I think we’re both not ready for anything more than friendship right now,” Fizzy shrugs, then moves a stray hair off of her forehead. “We’ve actually discussed it and if my big brother lets me stay over sometimes we plan on hanging out this summer. Before you ask, yes I already have mom’s approval.”

“My door is always open to you, Fizz,” Louis tells her. “Derrick is welcome here too. No funny business though.” 

“Thanks big brother, and don’t worry. I don’t see myself going there for a very, very long time,” Fizzy smiles openly, no trace of heaviness on her face. Only a matureness in her eyes that Louis would give anything for it not to be there. “Guess I’d better go get my jacket, and mom’s probably waiting on pins and needles to see how this went.”

“Fizz,” Louis says softly, watching his sister walk towards the door.

“Yeah?”

“I just want you to know that it’s not the end. I promise there’s someone out there who’ll make you want to try again, and ‘it’ll feel new and exciting. Maybe even better than any dream or fantasy you’ve ever had,” Louis is pretty sure he’s speaking from present experience.

After her experience it won’t take much for Fizzy to find something better. It’ll be easy, but Louis is still angry the his sister’s first experience with love did so much damage and caused her so much pain. That’s not how it was supposed to be, and fuck Trevor Johns for stealing the preciousness of the experience from her.

“You know out of everyone, I’m the most happy that you know and that I could tell you all of it. You knew all along it wasn’t Doris and Ernie, “Fizzy says quietly. “It helped knowing somebody knew me enough to question that. I think it’s what kept me from really going crazy.”

“I love you, Fizz, and I think you’re much stronger than you realize,” Louis smiles, hoping at least the sentiment reflected in his eyes because he feels little satisfaction or vindication in knowing he was right all along. “Now get going, we don’t want to be late for the big day.

“I love you too, Louis, and thanks for everything,” Fizzy salutes Louis before walking out of the door.

Louis is more than ready for a few minutes alone. He feels like he can finally breathe again. He didn’t expect his morning to start off with Fizzy’s confession. Now he needs the private time to let everything soak in. He has to let the boiling rage festering inside him die down and at the same time mourn the figurative loss of his sister’s innocence.

Maybe it’s messed up reasoning or maybe it’s based on his own experiences. Probably a bit of both, but Louis knows Fizzy will never view the world through the same naïve and trusting lenses again.

He certainly never did.

ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ

For the third time in ten minutes Louis picks up his phone to see if Harry’s responded to any of his texts. It's past ten now and he's has been at Harry’s place for more than four hours. Harry should’ve have been home at least two hours ago.

Under other circumstances Louis wouldn't be so worried. He's been dating Harry for long enough to know that sometimes he has to stay late at the bakery, but on those occasions Harry always lets him know. Tonight the lack of communication is more troubling because Louis is almost a hundred percent certain that Harry’s absence has something to do with Samuel not showing up at the bakery today.

Louis never quite warmed up to the insolent teenager. Mostly because Samuel never warmed up to him, but at least he was never as rude as he was that day in the storage room. The one or two times Louis actually interacted with him after that, Samuel was more indifferent than anything.

Louis’ pragmatic side accepted the situation for what it was. Harry, on the other hand, believed the lack of hostility was a step in the right direction, and in reality Samuel didn’t treat Louis any differently than he treated anyone else, including Harry. Still Louis wasn’t so sure and after this morning he was even more less inclined to believe there had been some kind of breakthrough.

They were on a tight schedule so there was never a right moment to get Harry alone to question him, but Louis saw how worried he was when Samuel still hadn’t shown up by the time they were getting ready to leave the bakery. It was one of the very few times Harry didn’t acknowledge Louis in some way since they got together, but they were so busy serving breakfast and lunch at the shelter, Louis didn’t have time to dwell on it. Now he hasn’t thought of much else since Harry left the bakery in a rush almost as soon as he returned with his team.

Louis looks around the spacious bedroom, feeling just as helpless as he did at the bakery. He couldn't do anything about it then either. It sucks not knowing. It sucks even more that he can’t call any of Harry’s friends because it would give them away. That's why Louis is more than ready for the next couple of weeks to be over with. He’s ready for his family and friends to know that he has an amazing boyfriend, but until then at least he’ll be able to tell Fizzy the truth. Harry just has to get home first so they can talk about the conversation Louis had with his sister this morning.

_“For fucks sake! Just let me know if you’re okay!”_ Louis speaks the words out loud as he types. Then he quickly dismisses any scenario in which Harry might not be able to text him back. He sits his phone back down as soon as he presses the send button and he rests against the headboard with the remote in his hand.

He’s never been a big fan of televisions in the bedroom, but tonight he’s thankful for the distraction. He’s already had a meaningless conversation with Caroline that he could hardly stay focused on. He facetimed with Liam and Zayn because they never pass up an opportunity to show off their three month old daughter, but the thrilled parents begged off so they could feed their little angel.

Louis is honestly thrilled for them, but he sure could’ve used the diversion of fawning over Lilah just a little longer.

There's no work to keep him occupied because he cleared his schedule for the entire weekend. Earlier he tried to fill the time by eating some of the Chinese takeout be brought for his and Harry’s dinner, but he could only force a little down. He debated calling Jay, but he just didn’t want to rehash everything Fizzy told him this morning and he knew that’s what his mom would want to do. He knew she’d only be doing it to make sure he’s okay, but it still didn’t give him the incentive he needed to make the call. That left a quick shower, which he took in record time and now all he has left is the television.

It’s a listless search through the channels, but finally a documentary on the murder of Gianni Versace snags Louis’ attention. He’s met the late designer’s sister on more than one occasion and he’s always been a little intimidated by Donatella’s brashness and shocking features, but she’s such a warm person that a few minutes in her presence is all it takes for everything else to fade away.

"Fuck," Louis can hardly focus, and it's only twenty minutes into the documentary. As interesting as it is, the retelling of the murder can’t compete with getting up at four in the morning, but Louis’ phone buzzes at the exact second that his head drops. The sound has him on instant alert and he reaches for his phone, willing it to be a message from Harry.

_Sorry, Lou. Will be home in about an hour and I’ll explain everything then. Keep the bed warm for me._

Louis reads the message three times, trying to detect anything problematic or worrisome, but it sounds normal. The tone isn’t any different from the hundreds of other messages Harry’s sent him, and with that reassurance Louis slips down in the bed to settle in and wait for Harry to come home.

He doesn’t plan on going to sleep, but he loses the battle before he even starts fighting. He only becomes aware again when he feels pressure on his forehead, but sleep is still holding him hostage so he attempts to brush the annoyance away. It works, but the warm pressure just moves to one of his eyelids and then the other.

Louis is a little more aware by the time he feels the warmth against his jaw and he lifts his face to receive more of the kisses being peppered over it.

“I was beginning to worry,” he sighs, keeping his eyes closed. He doesn’t need his eyes to know Harry’s been home long enough to shower and brush his teeth. It’s obvious from the smell of mint and the damp hair brushing against his shoulder and neck.

“I’m really sorry about that. You know I would’ve called if I could have, but I had to leave my phone in the car. Then I didn't want to be distracted on the way home,” Harry stops his ministrations mid kiss.

Louis opens his eyes because he misses the pressure from Harry’s lips. “Were you with Samuel?”

“Some, but for the most part I was with his mom,” Harry sits up, sounding and looking resigned. “He was arrested, Louis,” he moans, looking every bit as exhausted as Louis feels. Then he covers his eyes with one of his hands, maybe out of frustration. Or maybe just to rub the tiredness away.

“Why?” Louis slides into a sitting position before grabbing Harry’s hand away from his face to link their fingers.

“He was hanging out with a couple of his friends last night and after getting burgers the other two boys with him asked him to take them to buy cigarettes since he was the one driving.”

“Oh no, Haz,” Louis' stomach sinks.

“He said it didn’t occur to him until it was too late that he had to pay for the food and that his friends wouldn’t have the money for cigarettes. The police pulled them over two blocks away from the store. Needless to say, they were all arrested.

“Aren’t his friends too young to purchase cigarettes and don’t most stores keep them behind the counter?” Louis asks, the analytical part of his brain overdrive.

“Their age nor the location of the cigarettes mattered since one of the other boys pretended to have a gun in his jacket pocket,” Harry shakes his head like it’s still hard for him to believe.

“That’s not good,” Louis is no expert on crime, but it doesn’t take one to know all three of the boys are in a shitload of trouble.

“They stole more than cigarettes. They made the cashier empty the cash register too. Samuel swears he didn’t know, but it’s not helping his case that he was smoking one of the cigarettes when they got pulled over.”

“Is that where you’ve been? Trying to bail him out?”

“No, it’s Saturday. He won’t even face a judge until Monday. That’s when he’ll enter a plea and we’ll learn if he can be bailed out.”

“How's Maya taking this?” Louis met Samuel’s mother in the meeting where they were assigned to their teams for giving back day, and she seemed like a really nice woman. Definitely friendlier than her son.

“It’s been a long day for her and that's putting it mildly. She went to the jail after she got the call, but it took them hours to tell her that Samuel had been transferred to a juvenile holding facility. That’s when she called me, and when I finally got there she was still waiting to see him. I think we’d probably still be waiting if one of the officers on duty hadn’t recognized me from the bakery,” Harry sighs dejectedly.

“And Samuel? How's he holding up?” Louis feels odd asking. He never made a connection with Samuel, but he knows if Fizzy had been taken to jail after stealing the purse she would’ve been scared out of her wits. Still he doesn’t expect Harry to tear up. “Haz?”

“No, I’m fine. He’s just so scared, Louis. He promised he didn’t have anything to do with it. He literally begged us to believe him.”

“You believe him,” Louis declares softly. It’s not a question, but silently he wonders how Harry could believe Samuel. Faced with everything Louis heard he sounds guilty.

“I want to. I thought I did, but now I’m torn,” Harry says, pain and disappointment in his eyes. “I know I was getting through to him. He wasn’t the same Samuel who started the program.”

That Louis agrees with. “What is your instinct telling you?” he asks because one thing is certain, Harry knows the kids in his program and if he says Samuel is innocent that’s enough for Louis.

“That’s the problem, my instinct isn’t telling me anything. Maya asked if I would go to court with her on Monday and if they allow me, speak to the judge about Samuel’s involvement in the program and how far he’s come. I said yes before I thought about it, but what if I’m wrong? What if he's guilty?” Harry takes a deep breath, frowning when he exhales.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have the answer for you, but maybe you'd see things clearer if you put it out of your mind for a while. Back away from it for a bit,” Louis lifts his other hand to cup Harry’s jaw, gently rubbing the small patch of stubble under Harry’s bottom lip with his thumb.

“Will you help me back away from it?” Harry kisses Louis’ thumb before planting his face in the hollow of Louis’ shoulder. “Can you help me forget that I can’t save them all?”

“Anything you need, Haz,” Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s back, upset for him and wanting to hide him away from the world.

“Right now I only need you,” Harry presses the words out against Louis’ skin and he follows them with soft flicks of his tongue.

“I’m here,” Louis reels at how fast things still heat up between them. He should be used to it by now, but it still catches him by surprise every time. Even the tiny summersault his stomach does when Harry licks into his mouth still jolts him, but he embraces the sensation as he returns the kiss with an enthusiasm that has Harry moaning.

“Let me get the lights,” Harry breathes heavily when he sits back. He observes Louis with needy eyes and he wipes the excess moisture from Louis’ lips before standing up. He walks over to the small panel by the door and as soon as the lights go out the bedroom is illuminated by the fragrant candles he must have lit before he woke Louis up.

The only use Louis has for candles are in case of power outages, but Harry buys them because he loves them. He has candles in every room of the two bedroom duplex. Expensive, amazing smelling candles that Louis has learned to appreciate because Harry Styles is fucking stunning in candlelight.

“You’ve been busy,” Louis teases, but truthfully he’s a little thrown off. Harry has the uncanny ability to consume his total focus. He loses all awareness of anything except Harry. Not for the first time, the realization makes Louis uncomfortable. The only difference now is that he gets over the uneasy feeling much faster than he did in the beginning.

“It’s all about the ambiance,” Harry smiles saucily, and his dimples appear right before he drops the towel from around his hips.

“Come to me,” Louis orders, his eyes clouded over with need.

Harry’s all lean muscle, no extra flesh anywhere. There’s something primal and sensual in the way he loves being nude. He’s proud of his body and there’s not an ounce of shame as he lets Louis devour him with his eyes. Semi hard and more beautiful than any person has a right to be.

“You like what you see?” he taunts, swaying his hips.

Not exactly the way to get Louis raise his gaze. He nods, close to getting out of the bed and dropping on his knees. Because the only thing better than looking at Harry’s dick is sucking it, and that thought Louis finally looks up to meet Harry’s hungry eyes head on.

No,” Louis lies breathlessly, but the naked lust in his own eyes betray him.

“Have to see you now,” Harry ignores the lie in favor of getting on the bed.

Louis doesn’t do anything to stop him from drawing the comforter down, but he’s never been as comfortable as Harry with his own body. He hates his stomach and how soft his middle is. No matter how much or how long he works out, or how many sit ups he does a firm stomach has always eluded him. He’d keep it covered up if he could, but Harry won’t have it. The first time he realized Louis had the tiny insecurity he blew him until forgot he even had a stomach.

“So fit,” Harry breathes, feeding Louis' confidence.

He soaks up the way Harry’s eyes reverently roam over his body. He tries to breathe normally while Harry ghosts his fingertips over his arms and chest, stopping to play with his nipples, leaving heat wherever his hand touches. 

Louis forgets to breathe period when Harry’s hand brushes his hard length purposefully. “Don’t tease,” he demands. It’s been too long. Four days is way too long and he’s not in the mood for foreplay. “Not tonight.”

“Okay,” Harry must sense the need. His fingers graze Louis’ cock one more time, moving his fingers along the underside before pressing his finger in the slit on the swollen head.

The touch pulls a lengthy moan from Louis and he moves his hips to let Harry know he needs more.

He gets exactly what he wants. Harry moves his hand back and forth with the expertise of someone who knows what they’re doing. His grip is firm, but not too firm. It’s obvious he’s not trying to send Louis over the edge or even get him close. The up and down motions are just a promise of much more to come.

Louis wants more. “Haz.”

“You’re so gorgeous,” Harry breathes. "Stunning."

Louis opens his eyes just in time to see Harry’s head moving towards his. “I’ve been told that a lot lately,” he argues without conviction.

“Because it’s the truth,” Harry responds right before their lips touch and then Louis is lost.

Sometimes Harry kisses like he talks, slow and in no hurry to finish. Sometimes he kisses like he’s been stranded in the desert for days and kissing is the water he desperately needs to survive. It’s how he’s kissing Louis now.

Louis is just as desperate. He’s gotten used to spending every Friday and Saturday night Harry, and having secret lunches with him on the days his schedule allows. This week the schedule was disrupted. Louis hasn’t seen Harry since their rushed lunch date this past Tuesday, and the rushed sex wasn’t enough.

Nowhere near it.

“I missed this,” Louis sighs when Harry starts sucking and tugging on his ear lobe.

“Only this. What about me, did you miss me at all?” Harry slides down to Louis’ chest. He leaves a trail of wet heat followed by a goose bump inducing chill.

“No,” Louis’ lies again, but Harry knows truth. They’ve exchanged too many whiny phone calls bemoaning their lonely fates for him not to know it.

“Didn’t miss you either,” Harry bites Louis’ nipple before licking it, then repeating the treatment on his other nipple. “At all,” Harry moves down to Louis’ stomach. “Not even a little bit,” he adds before taking Louis into his mouth, sucking greedily on the head.

“Haz,” Louis moans, closing his eyes. He learned early on that it’s best to not look at Harry while he’s sucking him off. Harry gets way too into it. He gives a blow job like he gets just as much pleasure from it. So most of the time Louis settles for losing himself in the feel of Harry working him over with his mouth and listening to the obscene noises he makes, but sometimes he just can’t avoid temptation. Sometimes Louis has to look and it’s never not a sight to behold.

Harry licks around Louis’ swollen head, lazily rolling his tongue around it over and over. He lowers his head, taking more of Louis in, moving back and forth before moving back to the head. Harry uses his mouth just like he used his hand. He gives Louis’ cock just enough attention to make him want more, but nowhere close to what he needs to push him to the edge.

Louis knows it’s not teasing. Harry just needs time to get today’s events out of his head. It’s how he is when he’s had a stressful day at the bakery. He never wants to give Louis less than a hundred percent of himself when they have sex, and when he can't he takes his time. He makes sure he’s all there and Louis always lets him. He never rushes Harry when he’s in this mood and he always knows the exact moment Harry let’s go. Like now.

He relaxes tangibly, releasing of all of the tension keeping his muscles tight and he moans like he’s been stabbed. His hold on the base of Louis’ cock tightens and he begins to suck him off earnestly, making the noises that signify just how much he’s into what he’s doing, but tonight he kisses his way back up Louis’ body much sooner than expected.

“Need to be inside you,” he hovers over Louis’ mouth. So close. “Love being inside you, Louis,” he worships Louis’ face with his eyes.

“I love it when you're inside of me,” Louis whispers shakily and he’s rewarded with an unbelievably gentle kiss.

Louis could stay in the soft cocoon of the kiss forever, but an even more urgent and demanding need has him moving to get on his knees as soon as they break apart. He gladly displays himself for Harry’s viewing pleasure.

“Fuck Lou, do you know your ass is a work of art?” Harry rasps, crudely groping Louis’ bottom and spreading it before going for lube and a condom.

Louis is aching with so much anticipation even the sound of Harry opening the drawer on the nightstand has him biting down on his lip to keep from moaning. He loses the battle when Harry lines up behind him, settling in the space between his legs. Harry slips his cock in between Louis’ ass cheeks, simulating fucking, but only going so far.

Louis’ control is almost nonexistent by the time Harry grips his hip and presses a lubed finger against his rim. He spreads his legs wider, accomplishing nothing, but Harry takes the hint. He slowly pushes his finger inside of Louis, wasting no time before he starts rotating it.

By the time he adds a third finger Louis can barely hold himself up. “Haz, please.”

“You’re doing amazing. Always so amazing for me, Louis,” Harry spreads his fingers wider, moving them in tandem with Louis’ pleas.

“Need you now,” Louis cries. If he thought he could stay up on the strength of one arm he’s grab his own cock to get some relief.

“Almost there,” Harry promises, his own voice trembling.

Louis feels like he’s already there. He’s more than ready, but Harry’s thoroughness doesn’t surprise him. He’s come to expect how serious Harry takes every aspect of sex. Even when they’re in a lighthearted or playful mood. Or even when it’s less charged than it is tonight, Louis is used to Harry making it his mission to give him as much pleasure as he possibly can.

Louis was resistant to it at first. He thought it was too onesided, but it didn’t take long to for him to realize Harry got as much out of it as he did. He finally realized Harry loves seeing him wrecked and he loves being responsible for it.

Because of that Louis doesn’t mind falling apart for Harry. He doesn’t mind begging and brazenly pushing back against Harry’s fingers. He doesn’t care how he sounds when he whines pitifully after Harry removes his fingers. He’s not even aware of the loud cry he makes when Harry pushes into him a few seconds later.

“Louis!” Harry hisses, gripping Louis’ hips to hold him still. “Fuck, stop moving!” he growls.

“Can’t,” Louis tried to follow Harry’s lead. He gave staying still a good fight, but he lost the battle. He needs some type of movement and since Harry’s unaccommodating he squirms frantically, as much as he can with Harry’s tight hold.

He continues making the small movements until Harry finally starts giving him the push and retreat he desperately needs.

Louis gives himself over to the powerful thrusts and he exists on wave after wave of electric sensation. When Harry increases the tempo he presses one hand against the base of Louis’ spine and he grips his hip with the other one, angling his body to hit Louis’ prostate over and over again.

“Haz!” Louis’ entire body feels hot and tingly, he’s so close to coming he can taste it. Every muscle in his body is preparing for it, but he’s deprived of the ultimate pinnacle when Harry slips out of him altogether. “No,” Louis pleads, feeling empty and cheated. And desperate.

“Want you this way,” Harry guides Louis onto his back and once he's settled Harry kisses him hard as he enters him again.

Louis returns the kiss. He’ll never deny Harry a kiss, but he’s more focused on urging him to pick up the pace. He wraps his legs around Harry’s waist and it doesn’t take long after that. Harry’s thrusts become more frantic. More erratic, and soon Louis is on the brink again. He just needs to get his hand on his cock, but when he attempts to Harry intercepts him.

“Let me,” Harry stops moving long enough to slide his hand between their bodies. He wraps it around Louis and starts tugging. “So good for me,” he breathes, moving his hand in just the right way and despite the tell-tale signs his body had been giving him, Louis’ orgasm still sneaks up on him.

"Harry," he gasps when his body seizes up. Then the only thing he can do is throw his head back and let the waves of pleasure overtake him.

Harry falls over the edge next, with his head buried against Louis’ neck.

Louis is only semi aware of Harry moaning his name, but he’s still present enough to clench around Harry just to extract more of the carnal sounds from Harry.

When Harry presses trembling lips to his, Louis’ his arms automatically go around Harry’s neck, but they only manage to swap a few harsh breaths before Harry collapses on top of him.

“Did we just do that?” Harry asks, breathing harshly.

“We did that,” Louis heaves, still high on the feeling. "It's kind of a thing with us."

“I remember when you would’ve punched me for this,” Harry taunts shakily, reminding Louis of the time he said he didn’t want come on him. 

Louis still sounds a little choppy himself. “I was just trying to be cute and keep you interested. Feel free to smear come on me anytime you want.”

“So you keep telling me,” Harry lifts up a few minutes later, when he has the strength.

Louis drop his legs from around Harry's waist and he watches through hooded eyes as Harry gets up from the bed.

“Back in a minute,” Harry tells him before walking out of the door.

Louis loves Harry’s duplex. He loves being here, but he hates having to leave the bedroom to go to the bathroom. It's the one flaw he can think of, but still if they were to ever move in together he’d choose to give up his condo without blinking. There's something welcoming and inviting about Harry's house. Something Louis has never felt about his condo.

He doesn’t even realize his eyes are closed until he feels a cool cloth on his stomach. He opens them to see Harry gently cleaning the come off of him. “Thanks,” Louis says, enjoying the feel of the cool cloth against his heated skin.

No sooner than he’s done, Harry climbs back in the bed, immediately sliding over to Louis and resting his head on his chest.

“Sleepy?” Harry ask after Louis slings an arm over his shoulders.

“Uh huh,” Louis mumbles, but about five minutes later he realizes sleep’s not happening yet. He settles for playing with Harry’s hair and staring up at the ceiling, the flicker of candlelight lulling him until Harry becomes restless. “Are you okay?”

“I believe him, Louis,” Harry moves so that the back of his head is on Louis’ chest, staring at the ceiling too. “I think Samuel’s telling the truth, and it’s not just my ego talking. He just got paid from the bakery, so it’s not like he needed the money, and I’m a hundred percent sure he doesn’t do drugs. I think he was just hanging with people he shouldn’t have been.

“Okay,” Louis responds decisively. Harry’s faith in Samuel is enough for him. Plus his argument makes sense. “Then you have to do whatever you can to help him out.”

Harry lifts his head to look Louis in the eyes. “Do you remember when you asked me why I started the program?”

“I remember,” Louis answers, waiting.

“Why didn’t you ever ask again?”

“It was the one and only time you closed yourself off from me after we started dating. I could tell how much it upset you,” Louis answers honestly. “I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”

“Okay,” Harry lifts off Louis to lay beside him, back to staring at the ceiling.

Louis is instantly remorseful. Maybe he should’ve asked again, but how was he supposed to guess that based off Harry’s reaction the first time brought the subject up. The knowledge doesn’t make Louis any less repentant and he’s just about to apologize when Harry starts talking.

“His name was Andre', and he couldn’t have been older than fifteen or sixteen. I don’t know for sure because I never asked, but for two months straight he’d come in almost every day. He’d place an order then nine times out of ten he’d make excuses for not having the money to pay. When he did pay it was always with loose coins. Once in a while the person in line behind him would add his order to theirs, but I’m ashamed to say that happened a lot less than it should have. Finally, I got my head out of my ass and told the staff to always let him have whatever he wanted, but that’s as far as I took it. I never wondered until it was too late why he was always broke or if what he got from the bakery was his only meal for that day. It didn’t even occur to me that he might be homeless until he stopped coming in one day. Then one day turned into two. Two turned into a week. He just stopped coming.”

“That's awful, Harry,” Louis kisses Harry’s shoulder.

“I looked for him everywhere I could think of. I even asked an officer who visited the bakery regularly to check into it, but he didn’t find out anything. Andre' was never reported missing. At least a teenage boy with that name and fitting his description was never reported missing. It’s like he disappeared into thin air and there was nothing I could do about it.”

“That must have been terrible for you,” Louis’ heart is hurting. For Harry and for the boy who had such an impact on him.

“I like to think it would’ve been different if I hadn’t been so preoccupied with adding the second kitchen, but really there’s no excuse. I should have done more. I should’ve paid more attention to him.”

“And now you make sure it doesn’t happen again?” Louis asks, sad that the program is the result of something so tragic.

If he thought it would help in any way, he’d tell Harry that it’s still possible for Andre' to show up one day out of the blue; healthy and happy, but it’s been years. It’s an unlikely scenario. Louis is sure Harry knows that.

“I do my best to keep another one from slipping away,” Harry hangs his head before turning on his side, his back to Louis. “Up til now I’ve been pretty successful.”

“You can’t think like that. The jury’s still out on Samuel, remember,” Louis turns over onto his side and opens his arms before sidling up against Harry’s back. “Come here, Haz,” he adds, frustrated because right now a hug is all he has to offer.

At least it seems to be enough. Harry sinks against him and they lay in silence with their fingers entwined. Just breathing.

“Thanks for sharing that with me. I know it couldn’t have been easy,” Louis finally speaks. He understands the name of the program a little better now.

Up until tonight he thought _Given A Chance_ stood for what the kids in the program could be capable of if they were just given a chance. Now he knows it is that, but it’s also Harry’s way of saying he’d do things differently with Andre if he were ever given the opportunity.

“Thanks for listening and not telling me to save my sob story for someone who cares,” Harry mutters, squeezing Louis' hand tighter.

Louis doesn’t have to guess at the undertone of bitterness and regret. One night in a moment of weakness he googled Harry’s ex, and he was far from impressed with what he saw.

Good looking yes. That much was undeniable. With his almost white blond hair, chiseled features, and titanium eyes, Sergio Florenza is strikingly handsome. To look at least, but that’s where it ends. In the one interview Louis managed to watch there was a cockiness about him that was immediately off putting. For a not too famous model he was so obnoxious it was almost laughable.

It left a sour taste in Louis' mouth. He was left with something else too, but trying to analyze it scared him. It still does whenever he thinks about it. So he does his best not to.

Tonight it’s easy to push the troubling thoughts away. “Can this be the last time that I have to say I’m not him,” Louis is over the comparisons, even if Harry’s not doing it intentionally. Louis doesn’t even want to be mentioned in the same sentence with Harry’s ex anymore. He’s nothing like him.

“I know you’re not Serge, Louis. I've always known,” Harry flips onto his opposite side, facing Louis again. “Want me to tell you how I know?”

“If you must,” Louis answers petulantly.

Harry kisses his nose before pulling him so that their fronts are pressed together. “Do you remember when I told you I didn’t think Sergio broke my heart, and you said I was in denial?”

“I seem to recall something to that effect,” Louis murmurs. He’s still over it, but now he’s curious too.

“I didn’t argue with you because I didn’t want to admit I stayed with someone like that because I was settling. I wanted to be in a committed relationship again. I was tired of it not meaning anything. I wanted something meaningful so I settled for something I shouldn’t have, and for a while I thought I was happy with Sergio. I thought we could have a future together, but I never once thought I was in love with him.”

“Oh,” Louis breathes, looking at Harry with a shocked expression because he gets what Harry’s saying. He knew they’d get to this point at some time, but he’s still unprepared. It still makes tears burn the back of his eyes. Definitely he feels the same, so much it scares him.

“I think I’m in love with you, Louis Tomlinson,” Harry says, watching Louis with a scorching intensity, suspicious moisture in his eyes too.

Louis could say the words back. He could answer the question in Harry’s eyes easily, but something stops him. Preservation maybe. “Well, get back to me when you know for sure,” he says instead. He falls a little bit more in love when Harry smiles.

“Knock, knock,” Harry doesn’t miss a beat.

“Who’s there?” Louis responds, looking confused. It’s an odd transition, but it’s not the first time Harry told him an awful knock, knock joke in bed. Given Harry's affinity for the silly jokes Louis is pretty sure it won't be the last time either.

“I’m back,” Harry says.

“I’m back who?” Louis asks, silently trying to figure out the punchline.

“I’m back, and I’m sure. More sure than I’ve ever been of anything,” Harry’s voice breaks at the end.

Louis’ heart nosedives to the bottom of his spine. “Yeah?” he asks, pulse racing and tears stinging his eyes again.

“Yeah,” Harry tells him, the truth shining in his.

“Okay,” Louis still doesn’t say the words. Then again he doesn’t need to.

It’s evident in the tear that falls out of the corner of his left eye and in the way he reaches up to reverently caress Harry’s face. It’s even more evident when he gently pulls Harry’s head down to his and it’s undeniable in the unbelievably tender kiss they share. Neither one of them say the actual words until much later when Harry is rocking sweetly into Louis for the second time that night.

It’s not until Fizzy walks in the door the next day that Louis is remembers he was supposed to talk to Harry about telling his sister the truth about them.

ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ

“Have you talked to Samuel yet?” Louis asks from the bathroom. “I didn’t get a chance to ask you earlier,” he adds, with a ton of insinuation in his voice and a wicked smile.

The charges against Samuel were dropped the day before his arraignment after the other two boys confessed that he didn't have anything to do with the robbery. He was released from the detention center that same day, but since then he’s refused to talk to Harry. Maya said he was too embarrassed to face anyone, but Harry wouldn't give up. He kept trying to get Samuel to talk to him.

“Finally,” Harry’s voice carries through to the bathroom. “Promised me he’d be back at the bakery on Monday.”

“Well that’s a relief, isn’t it?” Louis shuts the light off before he leaves the bathroom with his toiletry bag in his hand. Happier now because he knows how much Harry worried over the possibility of not seeing Samuel again.

“I am relieved,” Harry’s sitting on Louis’ bed, waiting patiently. “I hope he believed me when I told him everyone missed him.”

“He’ll see it for himself Monday night when he’s welcomed back with open arms,” Louis responds.

“Yeah,” Harry watches lazily while Louis grabs the bag with his suit in it from the closet.

“I think that’s about it,” Louis says, finally satisfied that he’s not forgetting anything.

“Are you sure?” Harry asks sarcastically, lifting one eyebrow.

“We could’ve shaved an hour off travel time if a certain someone had let me pick them up,” Louis informs Harry as he unzips the suit carrier with his tuxedo in it. He zips it right back up because the suit looks just like it did when he put it in there two days ago, but he’s like this whenever he has to attend an important event.

Louis lives off of the motto better to be safe than sorry, and although the gala in Santa Barbara tomorrow night isn’t on the same scale as some of the other events he’s attended, it’s still an important one for the magazine. It’s even more important to Louis because Harry’s going with him. It’s his first magazine event and Louis is a little nervous. He’s used to being in a room full of A list celebrities. Harry’s not, and it’s easy to get overwhelmed.

Since he accepted the invitation Harry assured Louis more than once that he was worried for nothing. He said he was more than capable of surviving a night with the in crowd, and to drive his point home he refused to let Louis help him choose a suit to wear. Instead he enlisted Caroline’s help. He just had to tell her it was for a reception he had to attend in the near future to keep her from connecting it to Louis' event.

Louis is not so sure Caroline believed Harry, but like all of their friends, she didn't pry and in the end her and Harry settled on a black and white flower print Gucci suit. Louis actually shivers at the memory of seeing Harry in it for the first time. To say he looked stunning is the understatement of the century. Louis can’t wait to show him off. He just hopes Harry enjoys the gala and that this won’t be the last magazine event they attend together.

“This is the first weekend we’ve had off together in forever and I didn’t want to waste a minute of it,” Harry lifts up on his elbows to give his boyfriend a dry look. “Besides, we both know you were bound to get distracted by something and then I would’ve been left to twiddle my thumbs until you showed up."

Harry’s speaking from experience, but in all fairness to Louis it only happened the one time. Okay two times, but both times had something to do with his job.

The first time the magazine's website crashed and Louis couldn't leave work until it was up and running again. The second time a meeting with the magazine's owner ran longer than expected. Neither time could be avoided.

“Says the person who just had to give me a blowie the second he stepped through the door tonight. I’m sure that delayed us at least another thirty minutes,” Louis places the suit bag on top of his overnight tote. Now all they have to do is leave. “You weren’t complaining then,” he crawls on top of Harry, straddling him like they have all the time in the world. Like they both haven’t been complaining about their already tardy departure.

“I didn’t make you return the favor, did I? I think you should sound a little more appreciative,” Harry pouts prettily.

Louis could be easily convinced to think that Harry does everything prettily. “It’s not like I didn’t offer, but someone decided to take matters into their own hand,” he grabs the offending body part, squeezing it.

“I’m a baker, Louis,” Harry squeezes back, before linking their fingers. “It's taught me how to multi task.”

“Yes, but I really wanted to return the favor. I like getting you off. It’s one of my favorite pastimes,” Louis pushes Harry with his free hand so that he falls back on the bed. He follows him down to reward him for the blow job with a sweet kiss.

Louis keeps it close mouthed because if he licks into Harry’s mouth like he wants to they’ll never leave. “I love you,” he sighs after he lifts up.

The words fall of his tongue easily, no hesitation whatsoever. Maybe because he’s been saying them multiple times a day since Saturday night.

“I love you too,” Harry sits up, but he doesn’t let Louis go. Instead he pulls him into a tight hug. “So much, and I can’t wait for everyone else to know it too. I can’t wait for you to meet my family because I know they’ll love you just as much as I do. You’re irresistible and amazing, and I’m stupid in love with you.”

“You get a kick out of saying things like that just to fuck me up,” Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s waist and drops his head on his shoulder to hide his face.

“And the obvious comeback is... I just love fucking you. Period.”

Louis doesn’t have to see Harry’s face to know he’s grinning like an idiot. “You’re awful.”

“Maybe, but I’m serious too. I can’t wait to put our friends out of their misery. I can tell it’s killing them to think they know about us, but not really know for sure.

“They know, Harry,” Louis mumbles against Harry’s neck, pretty sure he’s right. “You give us away every time you look at me,” he places all the blame on his boyfriend because he can. “It’s really pathetic.”

Louis wonders how he got so lucky.

Harry’s not having it, he reads Louis like a book he’s read a hundred times. “You love it, and you’re one to talk. Sometimes I feel like we’ve had marathon sex after you give me one of your looks.”

“I won’t argue with that,” Louis admits defeat because eight times out of ten when he gives Harry on of his looks, he is imagining them doing something sexual. The other two out of ten times he’s probably just being the besotted idiot that he is.

“You ready to go?” Harry hugs Louis tighter.

“No, not until you kiss me again,” Louis responds, already leaning in.

“Louis.”

It's not a protest, the way Harry says Louis’ name. It’s breathless and filled with wonder and something like submission. Never total submission though, because he only ever allows Louis to control their kisses for so long.

Louis teases Harry’s lips, running his tongue across them in light flicks, but he never seeks entrance. Harry lets the teasing continue for about another minute. Then he places a hand behind Louis’ neck before firmly presses their mouths together. Louis moans, eagerly opening his mouth, but before Harry can slide his tongue inside a noise that sounds suspiciously like a door closing distracts them.

“Louis, where are you?”

“Fuck!” Louis snaps his head up in surprise, stunned at hearing Fizzy’s voice, but before he can make another move the door to his bedroom is opening. “Fizz!”

Louis feels Harry tense beneath him, but there’s nothing they can do. They’re caught. Louis sickly wonders why he never had a talk with his sister about knocking before coming into his room? It seems ironic now that they started staying over at Harry’s because they wanted to avoid a situation just like this, but Louis never thought Fizzy would actually walk in on them.

“Did you know there’s a Range Rover just like Harry’s parked outside?”

Louis can tell the exact moment Fizzy steps all the way into his room. The exact moment she spots him and Harry on the bed. Her words stop on a gasp. Then there’s only a sickening silence.

While he’s scrambling off Harry’s thighs Louis hopes...No, he sends up silent prayers that Fizzy will be smiling when he finally faces her.

“Fizz?” Louis breathes nervously because he can’t see his sister’s face because she's looking down at the floor.

“I forgot my phone,” Fizzy mumbles quietly. “I guess it’s a good thing mom wanted to go to the Grove to do a little summer shopping for Ernie and Doris.”

“Fizzy,” Louis pleads, wishing his sister would look up.

This time he gets his wish.

“I asked you,” Fizzy lifts her head, pinning Louis with her eyes. “I asked if you and Harry were dating and you told me no.”

“Fizz,” Louis tries again, the accusation and betrayal in Fizzy's eyes hitting him like a brick to the stomach.

“Did you just get together? Did one of you finally make the first move like you said?”

It tortures Louis that Fizzy’s not being sarcastic. He’d feel better if she was, but there’s only hope in her tone. She wants to be wrong. It's heartbreakingly obvious that she wants to believe her big brother didn’t lie to her.

“No we didn’t just get together, but I can explain if you’ll let me,” Louis says imploringly, absently aware of Harry finally standing up.

“Is this why you were always so nice to me?” Fizzy ignores Louis to question Harry.

“No, it’s not, Fizzy,” Harry responds gently.

“I don’t believe you,” Fizzy says hotly, burning him with the accusation in her eyes.

“I’ve never treated you any differently than I treated the other kids in the program,” Harry responds, still gentle.

Louis can’t let Fizzy blame Harry. Not when all of this is his doing. “Fizz, you were already in the program for four weeks when Harry and I started seeing each other.

“You’ve been together for that long? ” It's an accusation and tears fill Fizzy's eyes.

Louis realizes the gravity of his mistake. He hurries to try and fix it. “I’m sorry, Fizz, but I promise I can explain. Please let me.”

“I told you all of it. Even the things I didn't want mom and Harry to know,” Fizzy’s mouth starts trembling.

Louis can’t take it anymore. He starts walking towards his sister, but she holds a hand out to stop him.

“You're the only one who knows just how messed up everything really was, and I wanted you to know that you could trust me with your secrets too. Why didn’t you trust me?” Fizzy’s voice cracks and Louis is horrified to see the tears actually start falling.

“Please, Fizz.”

This shouldn’t be happening. It’s a really simple mistake to fix. All Louis has to do is explain.

Fizzy doesn't give him a chance to. “It doesn’t matter now,” she responds calmly. Too calmly.

“Why don’t you give him a chance to explain, Fizzy,” Harry, the program director speaks up.

Sometimes it annoys Louis how easy it is for Harry to step into the role of mentor when he's outside of the bakery, but right now he’s never been more welcome. Although there's something in his voice that Louis has to ignore to stay focused. Fizzy is who he has to concentrate on now.

“No, I won't give him a chance,” Fizzy says with steel in her voice, at opposite with the tears falling down her face. “You’re a liar, Louis, and I won’t ever forgive you."

“Fizz, no,” Louis’ own eyes water at the conviction in Fizzy’s words.

Fizzy shakes her head. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I think that includes you too, Harry,” and then she’s gone. Walking out just as quickly as she walked in.

Louis stands stunned for a second, but reality sets in. He takes off to go after her, but Harry restrains him by grabbing his forearm.

“I can’t let her leave like this, Harry. She's come so far,” Louis tries to pull his arm free. “I can’t be the reason she retreats back into herself. I can fix this.”

“I think you should let me be the one to talk to her,” Harry says.

Louis hears that something extra again, but he attempts to ignore the weird undertone. “Then go after her,” he orders."

“Fizzy guessed we’re together, but you told her we weren't when she asked you?”

“Yes, but we can discuss that later. You have to go after her,” Louis says urgently.

“Why didn’t you tell her the truth, Louis?” Harry stands firm, and Louis finally realizes what the undertone is. Harry’s upset with him. He’s actually siding with Fizzy.

Of all the injustices. “Because we made the decision to keep us a secret together and I wanted to talk to you first,” Louis responds tightly, offended and hurt.

“Yet you haven’t talked to me about it. I know Fizzy told you the truth about everything on Saturday morning. That means you’ve had a week to bring it up, but you haven’t, not once. Why, Louis?”

Louis can’t answer that. Actually he could, but he refuses to lay himself open. Not when Harry's staring at him with so much accusation in his eyes. Still he begs for understanding with his own eyes because if Harry would just think, he could answer his own question. He said it himself, it was last Saturday.

For all of his silent pleading all Louis gets in return is the accusing stare, nothing more. “Just go after her, Haz,” he pleads, praying Fizzy hasn’t left yet. “Please talk to her.”

“I’ll talk to Fizzy, but she’s angry and hurt. I may not be able to reach her right now. She needs time to calm down,” Harry pins Louis with a penetrating stare. “I do too,” he’s not hiding behind an emotionless expression anymore. Disappointment is written all over his face.

Louis reels that it’s there because of him, no matter how unfair. “Harry?”

Harry shakes his head to stop Louis from finishing whatever he was about to say. “What have you done, Louis?” he leaves without giving Louis a chance to respond.

It doesn’t matter because Louis is asking himself the same question as sinks down on his bed.

ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ

Tuesday evening after Louis gets off work is when he finally decides he's had enough.

He's done with being in limbo, not knowing anything other than the fact that Fizzy's still angry with him because she's ignoring his calls and texts, and that Harry's not speaking to him at all. He doesn't even know if he can still call Harry his boyfriend because he hasn't heard from him except for a text asking for a few days to sort things out.

That was Friday night. Since then there's been nothing. No call, no text, no smoke signal. Nothing. Jay's the only person who's been in constant touch with Louis. That's the only reason he knows she's driving Fizzy to school and back home every day. It’s a hassle and it makes Louis feel even guiltier, but Jay just says she’s more worried about him than a measly two hour commute.

That’s when she’s not apologizing for not listening to Louis when he tried to tell her Fizzy’s problems didn’t have anything to do with Doris and Ernie, but that’s as far as she goes on the subject. She won’t touch the subject of his relationship with Harry. She hasn't even said if Fizzy’s still attending _Given A Chance_ , and Louis feels too guilty to ask.

For three days he’s tried to believe Jays' constant reassurances that everything is going to be okay, and he wishes more than anything that he could say otherwise, but he's not reassured.

If anything, Louis is close to giving up, but he needs answers before that can happen. That’s why instead of going home to an empty condo, he’s sitting in his car, parked a block away from Harry’s house more nervous than he’s ever been in his life.

The entire drive he argued with himself, wondering if he should wait like Harry asked him to. The things is complying with Harry’s wishes is getting him nowhere. Which is why there’s determination in Louis’ steps after he gets out of his car, and despite spending the quick walk telling himself that he’s not making a mistake, he knows he's doing the right thing. For him at least.

Louis is so caught up in his internal dialogue that it takes a minute for him to realize he’s staring at the SUV parked in front of Harry’s duplex. It’s takes him another minute to realize why he’s staring. He instantly realizes how Fizzy must have felt when she saw Harry’s car parked outside of his apartment, but unlike his sister, Louis doesn’t think this vehicle is the same make as his mom’s. He knows without a doubt it’s hers.

There’re probably thousands of _Lexus GX_ owners in Los Angeles, but there are zero chances that any of the other owners have a personalized license plate that says _Mom of 7_. The only question is why is it parked in front of Harry’s.

"There's only one way to find out," Louis turns towards the duplex, the key Harry gave him almost two months ago feeling heavy in his hand as he makes his way to the front door. His face is still puckered in confusion when he steps inside, half expecting Jay to greet him when he walks into Harry’s living room. For some reason he’s a little disappointed when she doesn’t.

At the same time he's kind of relieved too, but when he notices the sippy cup sitting on one of the end tables in the room the confusion returns tenfold. The yellow cup with the red top brings the frown back to Louis’ face and he walks further into the room to get a better look. He’s sure it belongs to Doris. Ernie has a matching one, only his is green with a blue top.

Louis inspects the room, but after a quick look around he sees the cup is the only thing out of place. It’s still a little puzzling, but the Lexus parked outside and now the sippy cup doesn't necessarily have to mean anything. Especially the cup, because the makers of the didn’t stop at that one. It could easily belong to Lou’s daughter or maybe someone in Harry’s family.

There are so many possible explanations. Louis just wishes he could get rid of the sense of dread sitting in the bottom of his stomach like a ten pound weight.

He takes his time walking to Harry’s bedroom, longing for the feeling of peace that usually assaults him whenever he’s in Harry’s home, but tonight the feeling is evading him. There're so many questions rolling around in his mind. Definitely more than he had when he first decided to come talk to Harry.

Louis is a few feet away from Harry’s bedroom when he sees that the door is open. Harry's not a stickler for closing doors so seeing it open now is not too bothersome. What stops Louis in his tracks is hearing someone talking, obviously having a conversation. He can’t make out the words because the person is almost whispering, and it doesn’t even occur to Louis that he should’ve been scared until he’s standing in the door watching Jay run a soothing hand over a sleeping Ernie’s back. Doris is sleeping beside him, her red curls the only thing visible from under the comforter, the missing sippy cup on Harry’s bedside table.

Jay’s on the opposite side of the king sized bed with her back to Louis and it gives him the opportunity to stand in the doorway unnoticed.

“Harry and Fizzy are supposed to stop for pizza on the way home, but I don’t know if I can last until they get here. It’s been a long day, but at least we don't have to do this in a hotel room,” Jay tells whoever she’s talking to. “Yes, they’re already down for the night. Sorry you missed them, darling.”

“I didn’t want to leave them again, Dan. I was away from Doris and Ernie for two days last week because of the giving back day. This week it would’ve been longer since I’m here til Friday night.”

It’s obvious to Louis from the impatience in his mom's tone that this is not the first time made the argument to Dan before.

“Harry’s been an angel," Jay sighs. "Although he insisted, I still feel awful for taking his bedroom.”

Louis is compelled by Jay's word to survey the room and that’s when he notices all the luggage. Several pieces of the designer luggage is strewn on the floor, two of the pieces he knows for a fact belong to Fizzy.

Louis’ eyes travel to the toys all over the floor and then to the play pen in the corner of the room. Finally he looks at the clothes at the foot of the bed and on the chair across from the bed. Clothes that definitely don’t belong to Harry, and on that thought Louis focuses on the fact that Jay’s wearing pajamas. The kind you can wear out for a quick run to the store, but definitely pajamas.

“I talked with Phoebs and Daisy a little while ago,” Jay continues, but Louis can hardly listen now. “They’re miffed because they had to stay with mom and dad. They said they could’ve taken care of themselves while you were at work.”

“Why don't you try telling them that,” Jay shrugs, then sighs heavily. “Anyways, I can’t wait to see all of you on Friday. I want you and the girls to meet Harry. He's a winner,” Jay’s still talking in the hushed tone, still unaware of Louis’ presence.

Louis is definitely aware of his mother and everything else too. All the pieces of the puzzle are all in place now. Every dot is connected and he feels so betrayed he can hardly stand up. “Mom?"

Louis has no idea why he phrased it as a question or why the word came out sounding a little vulnerable and a lot unbelieving.

Jay startles, visibly jumping before she pivots on the bed. Her face melts into a picture of remorse when she sees her son. “I have to call you back, Dan.”

That’s enough for Louis. He turns to leave. Not just the bedroom, Harry’s the last person he wants to see now. He can’t get out of the duplex fast enough.

“Louis! Wait, please,” Jay calls out before he can reach the door. “Louis!”

“Go back to Ernie and Doris, mom,” Louis stops against his better judgment. He even turns around, but he refuses to meet Jay’s eyes. Instead he focuses on the wall behind her shoulder.

“They’re out for the night,” Jay asserts quietly, and with a certainty that comes from firsthand knowledge. “They won’t move again til morning.”

“Good for them. Wish I could say the same for me,” Louis responds tersely.

“Let me explain, please,” Jay walks towards him hesitantly, concern replacing the shock and guilt.

“What’s there to explain? You’re obviously staying with Harry. Fizz and the twins are too. Funny thing is, no one bothered to tell me,” Louis seethes, looking at Jay now, hurting more since he actually spoke the words out loud.

“Louis, I’m so sorry, but I didn’t have a choice,” Jay’s voice is pained, her eyes too.

“A choice in what, mom? Do you mean staying with Harry? Or omitting that very fact every time you’ve talked me over the past three days?” Louis asks hotly. “Exactly how long have you been here?”

“Since Sunday night,” Jay answers, adding another, even deep layer to the betrayal Louis is feeling. “I’m sorry, Louis, but when Fizz agreed to stay, she asked us not to tell you. Actually, she demanded it. She said you'd just try to see her.”

“And you complied,” Louis doesn’t say in a nice way, the implication is clear. Still to drive his point home, “You certainly never gave in to me.”

It’s an ugly charge. Louis meant it to be, but he regrets it almost instantly. “I’m sorry, mom.”

“I thought we were past that,” Jay’s eyes fill with pain. “Mark was never going to stay, Louis. No matter how much you begged me to make him. He stayed longer than he should have. He did that for you, because he loved you so much, but in the end the situation was so unhealthy for us and for you. Mark and I didn’t like each other very much by then and we decided together that he should leave before it started affecting our children.”

The first time Louis’ stepdad came into his room to tell him he was leaving for good, Louis begged him to stay. When he stopped pleading with Mark he ran to Jay to plead with her, and it worked. Mark stayed for another two months, but Louis could tell something was off. Even at eleven he could sense the end was near, and almost on a daily basis he would beg Jay to make Mark stay. He blamed her when his stepdad finally left. It’s the one heartbreak he didn't share with Harry.

Now he never intends to. “I know that. I was wrong to bring it up,” Louis sighs contritely, “I got over it a long time ago,” but he still feels betrayed. That part he can’t help.

“Do you know what it was like for me to watch my daughter slip away from me? To watch the generous, outspoken, and outgoing girl I raised become a stranger right before my eyes. Of course I accepted her condition, Louis. Keeping the truth from you was a high price to pay, but if it meant Fizzy wouldn’t fall back into that dark place she went to for almost a year I’d do it again. I would,” Jay sounds like she’s trying to convince herself. “But don’t think for one minute I liked it, because I didn’t,” she stops talking to exhale deeply. “I love all of my children equally. I know sometimes that gets lost in the chaos of having seven, but it’s true. I love you fiercely. You’re my heart, baby, and I’d do anything to erase the hurt I’ve caused you tonight.”

Jay moves toward Louis with her arms out, but he takes a step back to stop her. He hates the wounded sound that comes from her throat and how her arms just drop dejectedly, but he can’t let her hold him right now. If his mom so much as touches him he’ll fall apart.

Louis believes every word his mom said and he understands why she did what she did. He even understands Fizzy’s need to exclude him from her life right now, but Harry…, Harry’s participation in deceiving him is what’s about to break Louis. “I have to go. Now,” he adds, emphasizing the word.

“Louis, don’t leave like this,” Jay pleads, trying to stop him.

Louis keeps walking because he can’t be in Harry’s house when he arrives with Fizzy. He just can’t, but Louis quickly realizes luck isn’t on his side. He’s about a yard away from the front door when the knob turns and he’s stuck standing in the same place when Fizzy walks in holding two pizza boxes from the same pizzeria Louis ordered from the night he convinced Harry that waiting to have sex again wasn’t an option for them. Seeing Fizzy with the pizza box adds another dagger in with the other ones piercing Louis' heart right now. It was his and Harry's second time together and that night meant something to him.

Another unexpected dagger is added when Harry comes in right behind Fizzy.

Louis has to physically stop himself from doubling over in pain. It helps a little that Harry’s occupied with taking his key out of the lock, but the respite only lasts until he looks up to see why Fizzy hasn’t moved. Then his face goes from the same expression of shock on Fizzy’s to guilt. Complete and heartbreaking guilt.

It’s only been four days, but Louis feels like it’s been forever. He only realizes now just how starved he's been and he ravages Harry with his eyes.

Harry looks like he’s going through something similar. His gaze travels over Louis’ face, searching and longingly. When he’s done he takes a shaky breath before looking directly into Louis’ eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Until about thirty minutes ago I thought I was welcome here,” Louis responds bleakly, breaking free from the spell of seeing Harry again.

“You are,” Harry sighs, looking like he wants to say more.

“No, I don’t think I am. Not anymore,” Louis’ feet become mobile again and he makes his way to the living room to retrieve his keys from where he left them. Behind him he hears Jay tell Fizzy they should take the pizza to the kitchen.

Louis laughs out loud, but it comes out sounding more like a broken moan. He actually forgot Jay and Fizzy were in the same room with them. As if forgetting everything that exists outside of Harry isn’t the reason they’re here right now.

“I didn’t see your car outside,” Harry sounds hesitant.

Louis spins around to face him. “I didn’t want to give you a heads up, but in hindsight,” he shrugs, not bothering to finish, and assuming they’re done he moves to leave. "Enjoy your pizza."

“Don’t go,” Harry blocks the open entryway right when Louis’ would’ve walked through it.

“Please tell me you’re not ready to talk all of a sudden. Not after four days of silence,” Louis says bitterly.

“I didn’t mean for you to find out this way,” Harry says quietly, begging for Louis to believe him with his eyes. “I was planning on telling you.”

“When?” Louis sounds incredulous. “No wait, let me guess. Friday night, after the completion ceremony you would’ve shown up at my door ready to tell me everything. Am I close?” he can only gape unbelievingly as a red flush spreads across Harry’s face.

“This hasn’t been easy for me," Harry sighs, jerkily tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

Louis noticed the dark circles under Harry’s eyes the second he stepped through the door. Up close they’re even more prominent, and four days ago Louis might’ve been bothered to care, but right now his sympathy meter is running on empty. “Couldn’t let another one slip away could you? Even if it meant deceiving your boyfriend.”

“That’s not fair. I did this for you.”

“No, Harry. You did this for you,” Louis responds contentiously, wondering how Harry could even bring himself to say that.

“I’ve crossed a line here! Can’t you see that?” Harry sounds angry for the first time since following Louis into the room. “I would never invite another family to live in my home. I’d pay for a hotel and help in any other way I can, but not my home, Louis. And unless it was absolutely necessary, I definitely wouldn’t intentionally keep the whereabouts of one those kids from their family. This is different because Jay and Fizzy are your family, and by helping them I felt like I was helping you, my boyfriend. The man I’m in love with.”

The face of every person who’s ever broke Louis’ heart is swimming around in his head and it would be a lot easier to believe Harry if his face weren’t among them. “Is that what you tell yourself in order to sleep at night?” he asks, willing the emotion out of his voice.

Harry laughs scathingly and he shakes his head. “I don’t sleep because I miss you and because I’m so angry at you. Don’t forget you did this, and the shitty thing is that even knowing you were too ashamed of me to tell Fizzy the truth, I've still defended you. Every single day I've defended you.

Louis shakes his head in disbelief and he hates the tears that automatically fill his eyes. “You’re an absolute bastard, do you know that? How can you even begin to think I'm ashamed of you?” he hates how his voice quivers too.

"Because your assistant didn't even know I existed, Louis. You two seemed pretty close to me, and there was nothing stopping you from telling her about us. So why didn't you?"

Louis can't believe Harry's been holding this in for months and the look he gives him is incredulous. "I told you, I lived that experience before and I refuse to live it again. I know what it's like to be the subject of everyone's gossip. Having all of your coworkers know the details of your personal life, including the fact that your boyfriend is sleeping with one of your coworkers. I don't discuss my personal life with anyone on my staff. That's why Leah didn't know, Harry. Not because I was ashamed of you," Louis says accusingly. "I didn't tell her about Fizzy's problems either. Does that make me ashamed of my sister? And before you ask, I didn't tell Liam and Zayn because I didn't want your friends to feel like they were less important than mine. I didn't want to put you in that position when we both agreed to not tell anyone."

"Then why didn't you tell me Fizzy asked you about us? Help me understand that," Harry demands, searching Louis' face.

“I forgot, that’s your fucking explanation, Harry. I forgot!”

“What do you mean? How could you forget?" Harry sounds derisive, cutting Louis even deeper.

“Because you asshole, it was the same night you came home so torn up over Samuel being arrested,” he stops to wipe his nose and take a breath. At the same time force away the tears that are threatening to spill. “You needed me. So for one blasted night I put you first. I forgot about Fizzy and her problems. I can’t even say she came in second to you because nothing else mattered, only you. I just wanted to be there for you. I didn’t even remember I was supposed to talk to you until mom dropped Fizzy off the next night. Then I was ashamed because I promised to put her first, but most of all because I promised myself that I'd never give anyone that kind of hold over me again.”

“Louis," Harry moans.

"You told me about Andre that night and that you were in love with me," Louis' voice goes impossibly low and he looks at Harry, letting him see the pain he caused.

"I am in love with you. You have to believe...."

Louis shakes his head to stop Harry. “We were so tired and we slept most of the next day," he'd really like to get a grip on that shaky thing his voice keeps doing. "Then I had to rush to get home, and coward that I am, I figured why even worry about it since Fizzy's participation in the program would be over in less than two weeks. I stupidly determined it’d be easier to just stick to our original plan to tell everybody after the completion ceremony. To assuage my guilt I figured we’d just tell Fizzy before we told anybody else, and there’s your pathetic explanation.”

“No, it’s not pathetic. I'm an idiot for not making the connection before," Harry says quietly, regret lacing every word.

“So it’s good that everything’s out in the open, right?” Louis wishes his words held more conviction, but they don’t. Nothing feels right. He feels like he’s lost something precious and he has to work his throat extra hard to continue talking. “I am right, aren’t I?” he asks, desperately trying to find something to hold onto.

Based on the distress on his face, Harry realizes it. “Don’t let something like this end us, Louis. We both had reasons for doing what we did and under the circumstances I don’t think either one of us can say which one of us was right or wrong.”

Harry’s right, neither one of them did anything horrendous enough to end their relationship. Louis even thinks that Harry’s actions make more sense than his, but the one thing stopping him from pulling Harry into his arms like he’s aching to do is the knowledge that one day they’ll end up here again. For another reason, but still with his heart always being the one splintered into a million pieces.

Harry takes a tentative step forward, but his face goes completely pale when Louis takes a defensive step back. “I love you, Louis. I don’t think you know how much.”

“Then why do I just feel ripped in two?” Louis sounds calm, but inside he’s a mess. No, inside he’s on the floor, kicking and screaming out for someone to choose him for once. For someone to finally pick him over their own selfish needs.

A struggle plays out on Harry’s face, and it’s painful for Louis to watch so he lowers his eyes. “I did what I did because I love you. I know I only said the actual words that night, but I could’ve said them much sooner.”

“Don't do this, Harry,” Louis begs.

Harry ignores the plea. “I could’ve said it on our second date when I took you to that Japanese restaurant and you argued with me about eating the _Okonomikayi,_ right up until you took the first bite.”

More tears well up into Louis’ eyes at the unwanted memory. He ended up loving the Japanese pancake thing, but because it sounded gross and a little bit pretentious, he gave Harry a hard time before he tasted it. "Stop, please."

“Or on the night you cooked for me the first time and we both pretended the steak was edible. Or on the day I took the cupcakes to your office, and you agreed to be my boyfriend. That's just three times, Louis. I can think of a at least a dozen more occasions where I could’ve said the actual words, but I waited until I knew you’d believe me. Just like I need you to believe me now. I did this for you,” Harry pleads, but Louis can’t give him what he’s asking for.

“Then why not one phone call? Or even a text? You had to know I was going out of my mind.”

“Because I wouldn’t have been able to go through with what Fizzy asked if I did. It's taken everything in me to keep this up, but you were so worried about losing her again. I would’ve done anything in my power to make that not happen. Yes, there is the part of me that would do anything to help your sister out regardless, but nothing this drastic. I’m really sorry if you can’t see that,” Harry sounds tired and as if his words weren’t enough of an implication, he stands to the side giving Louis the space he needs to leave.

The ultimatum and the look of defeat on Harry’s face makes Louis weak with regret. Just not weak enough to stay. “Me too,” he whispers before brushing past Harry.

Louis keeps his composure until he’s outside of the duplex, but the fresh air tricks him into believing everything's fine. It changes when he takes a deep breath that turns into a sob when he exhales. It happens again when he takes another attempt at breathing, but the only thing he can do is walk to his car. He refuses to give place the other option screaming at him to turn around and run back to Harry.

Louis does the opposite. He walks faster, making it to his car in record time. Once he’s safely locked inside he sinks into the driver’s seat, but it’s a long while before he’s able to pull himself together enough to actually drive.

ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ 

On Friday morning Louis can't say that he's shocked to see Jay sitting on his sofa when he drags into his. He's actually surprised she's given him this long. Still, he isn’t ready for this and he instantly regrets leaving work early.

He wishes he had stuck to his original plan to work half a day, but he ended up leaving ten, two hours after he got to there, and before opened his door he’d been thinking that he should’ve have worked from home today. Now not so much.

“Mom,” Louis says warily.

“Louis,” Jay sounds just as wary, but she looks like she’s really trying hard not to smile.

Louis notices. “Did I miss something? What’s so amusing?” he slumps on the loveseat across from her, frowning.

“Nothing, it’s just that you still press your lips together when you’re displeased. You’ve been doing it since you were a small boy,” Jay sounds like she’s fondly reminiscing. “Am I that unwelcome of a sight?”

“I’m tired, mom,” Louis attempts to smooth over his rudeness, but the truth is he’s exhausted. He can’t remember the last time he felt like doing anything other than lay on his bed and pretend to sleep.

“I can see that,” Jay sighs. “Funny how Harry looks like death warmed over too,” she adds dryly.

“Mom,” Louis warns.

“Okay,” Jay holds up her hand to surrender. “We won’t go there right now, but only because there’s something more pressing we need to take care of first.”

“And what is that?” Louis drops his head on the back of the small couch, immediately comforted by the feel of the cool leather against the back of his neck.

“Just give me a second,” Jay gets up causing Louis to lift his head long enough to see her walk out of the room.

He drops right back down, shutting his eyes, not caring in the least where his mom went. His only guess is that it’s close to lunch time, and maybe she went to the kitchen to get them something to eat. He's not hungry, but at least food is something he could pretend to be interested in.

“Hey.”

The voice surprises Louis. He lifts his head to make sure he heard right. The last thing he expected when Jay left the room was to see Fizzy standing in front of him.

“Hey,” he responds tentatively.

Fizzy just stands, not saying anything else, and it crushes Louis to see her looking so unsure.

He opens his arms and goes back on the only thing he knows. “Peace, love, and gummy bears?”

“Lou,” Fizzy hiccups loudly, and then she’s in his arms, crying on his shoulder.

Louis lets her cry it out. He runs a soothing hand over his sister’s back, and by the time she lifts her head he’s wiped away a few of his own tears.

“I’m sorry I was such a brat,” Fizzy wipes her on the sleeve of her shirt after the apology. “I was so hurt thinking you didn’t trust me.”

“You weren’t a brat, and it was never about trusting you, Fizz. I really just wanted to make sure it was okay with Harry first,” Louis says when Fizzy rests her head back on his shoulder. “Now we know how bad I mucked that up. I think you had every right to be angry with me.”

“No, I didn’t,” Fizzy says stubbornly. “I should’ve let you explain.”

Louis is too worn out to get into a back and forth so he allows Fizzy her apology. He’s just content to have his sister back.

“We heard you, you know. Mom and me, I mean,” Fizzy mumbles, causing Louis to frown.

“You heard me what?”

“We overheard you talking to Harry the other night, and now I understand why you didn’t tell me,” Fizzy confesses contritely.

“You do?” Louis is kind of caught off guard by the admission, but he’s not particularly irritated by it. Probably something to do with being emotionally drained.

“Remember, I know what it’s like to be so wrapped up in somebody that nothing else matters. And like, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it as long as you don’t let it take over your life. That wouldn't be healthy for you.” Fizzy says wisely and a little bit self deprecatingly.

“You’re such an adult, Fizz,” Louis speaks into her head.

“I’m just sorry you had to put your life on hold because of me.”

To Louis it sounds like Fizzy keeps trying to be the bad person in the mess he made. He can't let her do that. “I didn’t exactly put my life on hold,” he says firmly. “I just kept a part of it hidden, and that was only because I thought I was doing it for the right reason. The reason being you, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat if I thought you needed me to.”

“You’re such a big brother, Louis,” Fizzy teases.

“I am at that,” Louis smiles again. “Hey, why aren’t you in school?”

“I finished my last exam yesterday, and mom said I could skip today since it’s the last day of school. I think she’s just ready to go home," Fizzy sounds sad again.

“I’m sure this week has been tough for her,” Louis agrees, remembering Jay’s conversation with Dan from the other night.

“Yeah, and it’s my fault,” Fizzy sighs.

“That’s not what I meant, Fizz,” Louis mentally hits himself upside his head. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.

“Thanks for trying, but I need to take full responsibility. It’s about growing and learning from my mistakes. We learned that the third week at the bakery,” Fizzy sounds proud.

Louis thinks she should be. He’s also relieved to hear the lightheartedness in her voice. “Why don’t we share the blame? Then maybe I can do a little learning and growing too,” he offers.

Fizzy playfully looks like she’s considering the offer. “Harry did tell us we should always pay it forward when we have the chance,” she smiles.

“Let me guess. You learned that in week five,” Louis mocks fondly.

“Nope, Harry saved that for this week,” Fizzy laughs, but it quickly turns into a frown. “I know I haven’t talked about it much, but he really taught me a lot Lou. Now I realize how my actions affect the people closest to me. At the same time I know my mistakes don’t define who I am if I don’t let them. No matter how many I make, as long as I move past them and don’t keep repeating them.

“Those are really good life lessons, Fizz,” Louis says complacently. Any other time he’d be falling over with gratitude for how much Harry’s done for his sister and the other teens in his program, but today Louis just wants to not talk about him.

He doesn’t want to miss Harry either, but he does. With his entire being.

“I know, but coming between you and Harry is a mistake I won’t ever be able to move past if you don't forgive him. I’m so sorry, Louis.”

“Listen to me, Fizz,” Louis orders, lifting her by the shoulders so he can look her in the eyes. “You didn’t come between me and Harry. I did. It was all me, and I really need you to believe that.”

“Then forgive him, please," Fizzy says imploringly. Harry loves you so much, and he never would’ve hidden anything from you if I hadn’t asked him to."

“There’s nothing to forgive, He didn’t do anything wrong,” Louis feels a headache coming on.

Fizzy looks skeptical, but to Louis’ relief she changes the subject. “You are still coming tonight, aren’t you?” she asks, almost pleading.

“I don’t know,” Louis hedges. He still planned on going to the completion ceremony up until the night he went to Harry’s house. It’s why he planned to work half a day in the first place. Now he’s not so sure.

As thankful as Louis is to have Fizzy back, he’s not ready to face Harry. Not when it still feels like someone’s dissecting his chest with him awake to feel every cut from the scalpel.

“It won’t be the same if you’re not there. Please say you'll come.”

“I’ll come,” Louis gives in because he can’t say no to his sister. Not after everything he's put her through, but it still fills him with dread to even think of being in the same space as Harry.

“Thanks, Louis. Tonight would’ve been an epic fail for me without you there,” Fizzy sounds relieved an she reaches up to kiss Louis on the cheek, blissfully unaware of the inner war going on inside of him.

“Are we done in here yet? Because someone else would like to say hello to their big brother,” Jay smiles warmly at Louis and Fizzy, holding Doris in her arms.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Louis holds his arms out when Jay puts Doris down.

“Achoo,” Doris runs straight to her big brother.

“Hey, my little ginger,” Louis lifts and hugs her, breathing in the clean scent of baby shampoo.

“Fizz, would you go in with Ernest until he wakes up from his nap?” Jay requests softly, while watching Louis and Doris. “I need to talk to your brother before Dan and the girls get here.”

“Okay,” Fizzy kisses Doris' on the head. Then she hugs Louis before getting up from the couch.

“It's too bad Lottie can’t make it,” Louis says to Jay once they're alone, attempting to avoid the conversation he knows is coming.

“She couldn’t miss her finals, but she’ll be here next week. You’ll get to see her then,” Jays responds knowingly. “So, how did it go with Fizzy?”

“I think you already know,” Louis busies himself situating Doris on his lap and turning her to face their astute mother.

“She’s been torn up about this, even before you showed up at Harry’s. I don’t know if she told you, but Harry had already convinced her to talk to you. They were planning on coming over yesterday.”

“I didn’t know,” Louis shrugs because he really can’t see where it matters all that much.

“I would’ve been here sooner too. I wanted to come Tuesday night, but Harry suggested I give you time. He said confronting people when they’re angry and hurt almost always ends badly.”

“So is that what this is? A confrontation, and before you mention him again, I get it. Harry knows everything,” Louis attempts to keep the impatience out of his tone for Doris’ sake. “The only thing he seems to be missing is a degree in psychology.”

“Don’t be bitter, Louis. You’re above it, and Harry deserves better,” Jay scolds him while smiling and making faces at Doris.

“Sorry,” Louis bounces his sister to keep her occupied and to help him ignore Jay’s stern gaze.

“I’ll never be able to thank Harry enough for helping Fizzy. It’s so easy to see how important all the kids in his program are to him," Jay joins the list of people singing Harry's praises. "He’s been so kind to me, and you should see him with Doris and Ernie. He’s really wonderful, Louis.”

“Okay, is that all?” Louis really can’t believe his mother is actually sitting across from him highlighting Harry's good qualities when he can barely hold it together. “Because that really should be all, mom.”

Jay doesn’t respond right off. She studies Louis for a long minute, then she smiles softly. “Do you remember when you moved home after breaking it off with Luke?”

“What?” Louis respects Jay more than any other person on the planet, but he’s pretty sure he’s close to getting up and walking out of the room.

“Do you know I never wanted you to leave again? I hated that Luke hurt you, but I was thankful too because it brought you back to me. I used to think we’d never be close again, and it terrified me because you were my baby boy. I missed you terribly all those years you were so distant with me, and once I had you back I didn’t want to lose you again,” Jay’s eyes fill with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Louis feels guilty for being rude.

Doris’ head droops and Louis gently rests it against his chest. He didn’t even realize she had fallen asleep again, but he’s thankful for something to do other than look at Jay.

“When you finally started dating again I used to worry endlessly. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I was always relieved when the dates never led to anything serious.”

“I should’ve never involved you in my mess,” Louis apologizes, remembering what Fizzy just told him, and realizing he never considered how his mom felt during that period. How his actions affected her.

“I’m your mother, of course you should’ve involved me, and what I’m trying to say is that I’m not worried anymore. I admit I was surprised when Fizzy told me you and Harry were together, but now I couldn’t be happier. Harry loves you. He loves you so much, Louis, but even if you two don’t end up together, I’m still not worried about you anymore.”

“Why not?” Louis is almost afraid of the answer, but he asks anyway.

“Because I’ve realized running away from heartbreak is really running away from living, and by doing that you’re only losing out.”

Louis isn’t impressed. “Harry again?”

“No, but I did come to the conclusion after listening to the things you said to him the other night,” Jay corrects Louis. “You didn’t tell Harry, but I knew you were scared of getting you heart broke again when you left without giving him another chance. In that moment I realized how much you were throwing away over something that may never happen.

“It’s called learning from your mistakes. Ask Fizzy, she learned that in week three,” Louis says petulantly. “I think Harry would be proud of me.”

“Well, I’m not,” Jay scolds him, then inhales deeply. “He’s not Mark, Louis.”

“Mark was my stepdad for nine years. I’ve only been involved with Harry for four months. Not quite the same,” Louis could go on with the examples if he was in the mood to rehash the past. If he wanted to he could add the almost three years he was with Luke and the seven years he was best friends with Tara. Even the six months he spent crushing on Kyle before actually talking to him is considerably longer than the few months he’s been with Harry.

“No, it’s not the same,” Jay agrees, but not really. “I think it’s much worse for you.”

“It’s not, trust me,” Louis lies, irked that his mom knows him so well.

Jay sighs. “Sweetie, I know you’re just trying to protect yourself, but are you prepared to live with the fact that you broke Harry’s heart in the process?”

“That's not what I'm doing,” Louis answers defensively.

“To me it certainly looks like preserving your heart right now is more important than breaking Harry’s, and don’t tell me anything about how long you’ve been seeing him. It was obviously enough time for him to tell you he's in love with you, and I’m pretty sure you feel the same.”

For a minute Louis sits in stunned silence. He loves Harry more than he knew it was possible to love someone. Even the feelings he had for Luke doesn't come close to comparing to what he feels for Harry. “I never meant to break his heart.”

“I think you’re breaking yours and Harry’s heart, but it’s not too late to fix things,” Jay watches Louis with concern, love for her son evident in her eyes.

“I’ll just end up regretting it in the long run,” Louis says pensively, but his resolve to end things with Harry is fading fast.

“What if you do regret it one day in the future?” Jay asks. “Can’t be any worse than the regret you’ll feel if don’t talk to him now, Louis. Don’t you think Harry’s worth that at least?”

Put like that it’s so obvious. Of course Harry’s worth at least a talk. He’s worth so, so much more. “I’m a fool, and I’ve probably lost him for good,” Louis lowers his head against Doris’ to hide the tears in his eyes.

He misses Jay looking up at the ceiling and mouthing _Thank You_. “There’s only one way to find out,” she tells Louis gently. “The bakery’s closing at two and I know Harry’s staying to help the staff prepare for tonight. He took his clothes to get ready there.”

“I already know all of that,” Louis bites the inside of his jaw to keep the tears at bay. He had been waiting for tonight with eager anticipation for such a long time. Not only because he would’ve gotten to see Harry reward the kids his program for all their hard work, but also because it would’ve been the end of them hiding their relationship.

“Then you know you have plenty of time to talk to him before the ceremony begins,” Jay takes another exasperated breath. “Why don’t you shower, get dressed, and head on over to the bakery after it closes.

“I don’t know. Maybe,” Louis hedges.

“Promise you’ll think about it?”

“I promise,” Louis sighs. It’s an easy promise, because it’s probably all he’ll think about.

“That’s all I ask,” Jay sounds pleased. “We really have to get going. Dan and the girls should be arriving soon.”

“It'll be good to see them,” Louis responds. It’s only been about a month since he’s seen Daisy and Phoebe, but it feels like much longer. 

“They feel the same, you don’t come home enough,” Jay admonishes her son, then moves on to another subject.

Louis only half listens because he’s keeping his promise to think about it.

ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ ɤ

Two hours after Jay suggested he arrive and driving a lot slower than he normally would, Louis steers his car into the bakery parking lot. He's a nervous wreck despite Beli's enthusiastic response when he called her to make sure it was okay to come before the ceremony starts.

He follows Beli's instructions to park around to the back with the other employees and he pulls into the space next to Harry’s Range Rover, not surprised to find it empty since Beli practically ordered him to get his tush to bakery and make Harry smile again.

It feels like it's been forever since Louis made the call, but time flies when you throw a little procrastination in with an impromptu stop at a tattoo shop. Even now Louis didn't come to the bakery because of some grand epiphany. He’s just unbelievably in love with Harry, and thanks to his mom, he realizes it’s worth fighting his fears for.

Sure there’s a chance that he could be rejected, but it’s a risk Louis is willing to take. Doesn’t make it any less of a frightening prospect, and Louis’ slow footsteps doesn’t have anything to do with the hot California sun. Seeing Lou holding the door to the back entrance open for him is the only reason he walks a little faster.

“Beli’s been talking.”

“Maybe,” Lou smirks.

“You look beautiful,” Louis is a fan of the simple black cocktail dress and black pumps. The hairnet not so much, but he’s used to the bane of restaurant kitchen wear now.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Lou returns the compliment. “Love the touch of sparkle."

“I try,” Louis shrugs pretentiously. The flecks of light weaved into the material is what attracted him to the Sandro suit in the first place, but he’s having second thoughts about the shoes he's wearing. Feels like he’ll have blisters soon from the way the Grenson's are rubbing the back of his heels.

“I’m glad you’re here. I was beginning to think this would be the most morose completion ceremony ever,” Lou wraps her arms around Louis.

“Where is he?” Louis sighs, hugging Lou back, pretty sure she knows he's talking about Harry.

"In his office,” Lou steps away to pull Louis inside the building. "He usually spends some time in there before the ceremony starts.

“Did you or Beli tell him I was coming?” Louis didn’t ask Beli to tell Harry about his visit, but he secretly hoped she would. He figured it would be easier coming from someone else if Harry refused to see him.

“Thought we’d let you surprise him,” Lou dashes his hopes.

“Little one, you made it.”

Louis turns around when he hears Beli’s voice. She’s dressed in black too, but her dress is flared with a pleated bottom, where Lou’s dress is fitted with a pencil bottom. Unlike Lou, Beli doesn’t have a hairnet on. Her straight hair stops just past her shoulder, the jet black tresses looking like spun silk.

“I bet Niall’s having a little trouble concentrating today,” Louis smiles as he returns another embrace. “You look amazing, Beli.”

“Thank you, and Niall Horan is concentrating just fine. He’s seen me in this dress more than once,” Beli responds smartly, but tempers it by winking. “But not since our first date.”

Louis laughs. “I guess that went well?” he asks, still amazed that Niall finally got the courage to ask Beli out.

“I’ll tell you how it went when Harry’s smiling again. Since it's your fault that he's not,” Beli stares at Louis pointedly.

“How do you know that?” Louis asks, wearing the same pointed expression, but Lou answers before Beli can.

“You suddenly stopped coming to the bakery with Fizzy. Caroline says you’re miserable and Harry only remembers he has the ability to smile when he’s around the kids,” she raises her eyebrows knowingly. “I’m not a mathematician, but if two and two make four, who am I to challenge it?"

“Well, I’m not a judge and jury, but circumstantial evidence is just that. Doesn’t really prove anything,” Louis argues.

“But witnesses do, and your mom is an excellent witness,” Beli arrogantly proves him wrong. “She really likes to talk. Though she didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already suspect.”

“For future reference you can pry anything from that woman if you ply her with coffee, and occupy the cutest twins on the face of the planet with strawberry pastries,” Lou keeps up the ribbing with a devious smile on her face.

“Who are we talking about?” Niall appears from somewhere, wearing all black too. Only his outfit consists of a pristine black dress shirt and black trousers that fit like they were tailored. The dark color of Niall’s shirt make his eyes look even bluer, and going off the look on Beli’s face, Louis is positive he’s not the only one who thinks Niall looks hot.

“Louis’ mom,” Lou has to answer Niall's question because Beli is too busy staring at Niall stare at her, and Louis is too busy watching them watch each other.

“Come on, enough stalling,” Lou grabs Louis’ wrist, pulling him in the direction of Harry’s office, obviously not as intrigued with Beli’s and Niall’s display as Louis thinks she should be.

“I’m not stalling,” Louis lets himself be pulled, thankful that Lou didn’t grab his other wrist. “Twenty seven year old adult men do not stall.”

“Okay, you go talk to Harry, and I'll go try to find the logic in that statement,” Lou responds dryly. “Go on,” she shoos Louis when he just stands there.

“Alright, I’m going,” Louis walks away with all of the confidence he’s feeling in his steps, and when he’s finally standing outside of Harry’s office, Louis waits at least three minutes before he knocks. He waits another minute after hearing the soft _come in,_ before actually opening the door.

Louis expected answers right away. He knew he'd be able to tell how things would turn out just by looking into Harry's eyes, but that's not going to happen. Not right now at least.

Harry's back is turned and when he doesn’t immediately turn around, Louis stands awkwardly just inside the door after closing it, his eyes roaming over every inch of Harry's body.

The shirt and pants he has on are identical to Niall's, but Louis is almost sure Niall isn’t sporting fifteen hundred dollar Yves Saint Laurent black leather boots. Although he could be wrong because he didn't so much as glance at Niall's feet. Harry's hair is down out of the bun and hanging in loose curls on his shoulders. He's standing in front of the board with the pictures, and based on his stance it's obvious that he's brooding.

Since Louis started spending more time in the bakery he's gotten to know a few of the kids, and now he understands why Harry gets so invested in them. No matter the problem that landed them in the program or their different backgrounds, they all have the common thread of wanting to do better. From Louis’ observations every single one of them are grateful for the chance _Given A Chance_ affords them and he’s seen with his own eyes how hard they work to prove it. If it's hard for him just to think about it, saying goodbye to each group must be awful for Harry.

Louis clears his throat after more uncomfortable seconds of nothing, and disappointment settles in his chest when Harry turns his head only long enough to give him a quick glance before turning back to the board. Louis sighs because he wanted this to be easy. He just wanted to apologize and have Harry tell him everything is okay between them. It feels like wasted hope right now.

“Sometimes I think I could let go of the guilt if I just had the chance to help another Andre,” Harry’s voice is almost inaudible, but Louis hears him. He hears the guilt and regret, but mostly the anguish of not knowing what happened to the boy who disappeared.

Louis wonders if this is something Harry goes through with every completion ceremony. “Haz,” he walks to stand behind the stoic figure before he thinks better of it. He couldn't help it, the urge to comfort Harry is as natural as breathing to him.

“Three Ricardos, two Matthews, two Napoleons,” Harry points to a different picture as he says the names. “Two Napoleons, but not a single Andre. How can that be?” he sounds truly dumfounded. "In what universe?"

“Don’t do this to yourself, Harry,” Louis begs, and the instinct to protect takes over as he slides his hand under Harry’s arm, placing it in the space over his heart.

Louis has his only moment of doubt when he feels Harry’s heartbeat under his fingers. He holds his breath, waiting for Harry to remove his hand. He can almost taste the rejection, but it never happens. They just stand, with Harry’s heart beating under Louis’ hand.

“There could be ten other Andres on that board, and I think you’d still be haunted over the Andre that got away,” Louis says as gently as possible.

He sucks in another breath when Harry brings his hand up to link their fingers.

“You’re probably right, and most of time I’m fine. I’ve come to terms with it, but on nights like this, it kind of brings everything back. Especially the regret.”

“Haz,” Louis breathes, moving until he’s pressed against Harry’s back. When Harry relaxes against him, Louis wraps his other arm around Harry’s waist, careful to keep his wrist from rubbing against the underside of Harry's arm.

They go back to not talking, but Louis is content just being Harry’s support. He’d stand in the same spot the entire night if Harry needed him to.

“I love you, Louis,” Harry says softly, resignedly. “I can’t remember a day since we’ve been together that I haven’t loved you.”

“I love you too. I ache with just how much,” Louis rests his head between Harry’s shoulder blades, relieved that it might be easy to fix things after all, but he has to lift his head again because Harry unlinks their fingers before turning around.

“I know you love me, but you don’t trust me,” Harry responds, sounding sad.

Louis’ hopes sink again. They sink even lower when Harry steps back to put some space between them.

“So you picked up on that?” Louis asks sardonically, but only because he’s so fucking scared.

“You once told me that you didn’t want to be my hero, but in reality you’ve been waiting for me to fail as yours,” Harry sounds even more resigned and it brings tears to Louis’ eyes. It sounds like Harry’s already given up on them.

“That’s not true,” Louis searches Harry’s face, hating the exhaustion and pain etched on it.

“It is true,” Harry insists wearily. “You’ve been measuring me against the standard set by people who broke your heart in the past. How unfair is that after the conditions you gave me?”

“It wasn’t intentional,” Louis doesn’t even try to deny it anymore. Even if he's only acknowledging it today, Harry’s right.

“I’m not the girl who betrayed you by turning her back on you when you needed them the most, and although I think it’s unfair to even include him in this, I’m not the boy who left you way too soon. I’m definitely not the asshole who fucked another man in your bed. I’m none of those people, Louis. I’m not perfect, but I’m not them.”

“There’s more to it than just that,” Louis sounds more than a little agitated. He’s here to get his boyfriend back, not for a therapy session.

“I’m not your stepdad either. You would’ve never had to beg me to stay,” Harry says, more subdued now.

“Wow, my mom’s really been talkative lately,” Louis is really annoyed now, and not because Jay told about Mark. He was telling the truth when he told his mom he was over it, but there's something else he needs to confess to Harry.

“Your mom was only trying to help me understand how you could walk away from me so easily,” Harry charges, watching Louis with heavy accusation in his eyes.

“It wasn’t easy, Harry. Nowhere near it,” Louis insists, hating that he hurt Harry.

“Looked like it from where I was standing,” Harry disagrees, frowning. Probably remembering that night.

Louis’ hand itches to smooth the creases in Harry’s forehead, but he’s too scared he’ll be rejected. “Then you were standing in the wrong place. I was devastated, and I’ve been devastated every day since.”

“Does that mean you’re here because you want to mend things between us?” Harry asks, not sounding so contentious anymore. “So what happens if I do something you disagree with again? What happens if I hurt you again, Louis?”

“Then you’d better have a damn good reason for doing it,” Louis reaches out to put his hands on Harry’s hips, something in Harry’s voice making him bold.

“Does that mean you won’t ever walk away from me again?” Harry doesn’t move away from Louis’ grip on his hip. He kind of steps into it.

Louis is grateful for it. “It means I love you, more than I ever thought it was possible to love someone. It means that being without you is much worse than the fear of you breaking my heart. I can't tell you that I won't ever walk away again, but I do promise that I'll always come back to at least let you explain.”

“Fuck you, Louis,” Harry cups Louis’ face, looking into his eyes searchingly.

Louis has no idea what Harry’s looking for, but he nods because he wants to erase all the doubt reflecting in Harry’s eyes. He wants to give Harry everything he has to give. “And the obvious comeback is…,” he doesn’t get a chance to say _whenever you want_ because Harry’s kissing him.

He’s kissing Louis with so much passion and abandon Louis goes weak in the knees. His head spins while Harry wreaks havoc with his tongue, but somehow he manages to remain upright, probably because of the death grip he has on Harry’s hips.

When Harry finally lifts his head, Louis feels ravished and he feels his lips to make sure they’re still there.

“I love you,” Harry says between ragged breaths, gripping Louis’ shoulders and piercing him with his eyes. “Don’t ever doubt that.”

“I never really doubted your love. Maybe your loyalty to me, but never your love,” Louis is the one to search Harry’s face this time.

“Then don’t doubt my loyalty again,” Harry demands, his expression pained. "And for the record, I would never hurt you intentionally. I really did ask your mom and Fizzy to stay with me because I thought you'd want me too."

Louis already knows Harry would never hurt him purposefully. He also knows the same issues that led them here isn’t all of sudden gone. It’ll take time and work for him to totally trust again, but he’s more than willing to try for Harry. He just doesn’t want to start out by making false promises.

“I know that now and if possible, I love you even more for it, but please remember that Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

“It wasn't? I wouldn't know because I’m not an expert on Roman history,” Harry says doggedly, but he softens instantly. “I understand, and it’s okay. You’re a work in progress.”

“I guess I am, but I think the progress is really promising,” Louis breathes a little easier that they’ve crossed another hurdle. There’s only one more he can think of. “I wasn’t talking about my stepdad when I said there’s more to it than just the fear of having my heart broke.

Harry eyes go cautious right before he drops his hands from Louis’ shoulders. “What were you talking about then?”

“I was talking about your ex, Harry."

"What about Sergio?"

"About a month after we started dating I googled him," Louis shrugs when Harry raises his eyebrows. "I was curious," he admits unashamedly.

"Are you still curious and should I be worried?" Harry asks, smiling fondly. 

"A resounding fuck no to both questions , but I did come to a troubling conclusion,” Louis keeps his eyes trained on Harry’s the entire time he talks. He sees the exact second they go from curious to confused.

“What conclusion?” Harry asks.

“Believe me or not, but I saw a little of myself in him,” Louis answers, voicing his thoughts about Harry’s ex for the first time. “In the one interview I could find of him, I noticed the cockiness and self-centeredness you told me about, but I noticed the emptiness too. There was nothing there, Harry, and I realized he had to make you think he was better than you. It was the only way he could keep you.”

“I’m not following,” Harry sounds like he's ready for them to change the subject.

“I think subconsciously. Or maybe even consciously he knew that you were the one who was too good for him,” Louis is determined to make sense. “I think he was scared that one day you'd wake up and realize it too,” he inhales because he’s about to make the comparison he’s been dreading, but he pauses when Harry lets out a dry laugh.

“What?” Louis asks.

“You’ve managed the impossible. You made me feel empathy for the least deserving person I know,” Harry sighs when Louis just frowns at him. “Because that’s exactly how I feel about you, Louis. I’ve been dreading the day you regret agreeing to be with me. I was so horrible to you.

“Well get over it. And how dare you steal my thunder?” Louis is very miffed. “I was going to say the same thing about you. Maybe not the same thing exactly, but close enough.”

“Go ahead,” Harry demands smugly. “I’m waiting,” he folds his arms across his chest and gestures with his hand like he’s giving Louis the floor.

Louis wants to kiss him again. He can think of a hand gesture too, but it only involves one finger.

“No, you’ve ruined it, but let’s get this clear. I’ll never regret being with you, ” Louis promises, and when Harry opens his arms he doesn’t hesitate to walk over to him. He’d probably run if Harry weren’t standing just two feet away. “It was the best decision I’ve ever made, and that’s saying a lot because I’ve made some great decisions so far.

“Do you have any idea how important you are to me?” Harry breathes against Louis’ hair and tightens his hold on him.

“I’m getting there, but I should show you something before you cement that thought,” Louis says, all of a sudden nervous about his impetuous act.

“It’s more than a thought, it’s already a cemented fact. Now what do you need to show me?”

Harry drops his arms when Louis moves away from him and his eyes are fixated on Louis as he slowly draws the sleeve of his jacket back to reveal his wrist. It’s still has the cellophane wrap on it, but the knotted rope beneath it is very much visible.

“I asked them not to connect it,” Louis turns his wrist over to show the unconnected infinity rope. “I mean, it would be useless to the anchor otherwise. Right?” he asks nervously.

“Louis,” Harry breathes audibly.

Louis refuses to look up because he’s afraid. What if Harry thinks he’s crazy or too impulsive? They’ve never even discussed him getting a tattoo and they’ve only been together four months. Harry must think he's a loon. He still can’t believe he did it himself and he doesn't dare touch on the fact that it's an infinity knot. Maybe it's a sign that Louis didn't know the meaning behind sailor knots until the tattoo artist had already started the job. Besides a love that's endless is definitely one way of describing his feelings for Harry.

“Louis, look at me,” Harry pleads, his voice so thick with emotion Louis has no choice, but to obey him. “Why?”

“I know I should have discussed it with you first, but I’ve been thinking about surprising you with it for a while now. Today just seemed like the right day to do it,” Louis is less and less scared the more he talks.

"Why?" Harry sounds stuck on repeat.

“Because I wanted you to know just how committed I am to us,” Louis has no regrets. Even if Harry hates the tattoo, Louis doesn't.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Harry tugs Louis back into his arms. He brings Louis’ wrist up to his mouth to gently kiss the clear wrap. It seems only right for him to kiss Louis when he’s done. "I really mean that."

“I know you do,” Louis settles against Harry’s chest when they pull apart and he feels at peace for the first time in what seems like a very long time.

"You look really nice," Harry says against Louis' head. "Stunning actually."

"So do you," Louis responds. "I can't believe this is the first time I've seen you in your catering getup."

"I thought about wearing the suit I was supposed to wear to the gala, but I just couldn't do it," Harry confesses, sounding subdued. "I wanted to wear it for you."

"I have another event coming up in two weeks. Do you think you could go with me?" Louis knows it'll be Harry's weekend to work, but he still lifts his head to look at Harry with hope in his eyes.

"I'm pretty sure I could swap out with Niall," Harry assures Louis softly.

"Okay," Louis sighs, happy that he'll get to show off his boyfriend after all. He also might be picturing the red floral suit from the same designer that he plans on gifting Harry with.

“Everyone should be arriving now,” Harry says a few minutes later, his words laced with regret.

“Don’t keep them waiting,” Louis orders sweetly, understanding. He's not ready to let go either. “We can meet back in here later,” he adds, a tad more suggestive sounding.

Harry’s eyes light up with anticipation. “Are we finally going to have hot office sex?”

“As enticing as that sounds, I want to make sweet, slow love with you tonight. Unfortunately we can’t do that in here. Only soft surfaces will do,” Louis smiles enticingly, loving the way Harry’s eyes go dark.

"Soft surfaces,” Harry moans, molding Louis’ hips to his.

“Soon though,” Louis grinds against him. “Definitely soon,” he promises, tempted to change his mind.

“Name the time,” Harry initiates kiss that Louis turns into a gentle and thorough exploration. So,” he breathes, stretching the word out.

“So,” Louis mimics him. "Are you asking for another kiss?"

Harry smiles, but his eyes are serious. “So, do we hide our relationship one more night or do we go out there as a couple?”

“First, that was never meant to be a major thing. You know that, and I'll forever be offended that you thought I was ashamed of you. For my part, I did it for Fizzy, and now that she knows about us there’s no reason to keep what we are to each other a secret any longer. Second, the people who’ll still be here for us after tonight already know we're together. I know there are people we still have to tell, but it doesn't change anything,” Louis would climb on top of the bakery and shout it to anyone who’d listen, but not a second before Harry’s ready. “With that said, I’ll leave it up to you. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I’m definitely ready for everyone to know we’re together.”

Despite the declaration Harry still sounded a little hesitant.

Louis thinks he knows why. “Harry, the kids in your program know what a wonderful person you are. Their parents do too, and I can almost guarantee no one will question how fair you’ve been. You treat everyone of those kids equally and no one can deny that. Still, it’s up to you. I can wait if you want.”

“I don’t want to wait,” Harry says more decisively, and then his face breaks out into the goofiest smile ever. It looks like it belongs on the face of a twelve year old just got every thing he wanted for Christmas, not a twenty five year old business owner. No one human being has the right to be so endearing.

Louis couldn’t be more in love. “Whatever you say, Haz.”

“I say let’s go,” Harry holds out his hand.

Louis is looking at Harry’s outstretched hand, but he lifts his gaze immediately because the statement sounded like a challenge.

Sure enough, _let’s do this_ is shining in so clearly in Harry’s eyes he may as well have said it.

Louis' breath hitches because he sees love radiating in the green depths too. It humbles him to his core to know it’s for him. "Yeah, let's go," he takes Harry’s hand with a brilliant smile of his own. He entwines their fingers and the anchor and the rope align just like he pictured in his head.

Of course the tattoos aren't visible. They're covered up by Louis' and Harry’s clothes, but Louis doesn’t need to see them. The image of how the rope and anchor connect is already ready engraved onto his heart.

For now that's more than enough.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, if you made it this far, thanks for reading it. I really hope you liked it and don't consider it a waste of your time.xxx


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